Hell for the Holidays
by magistrate
Summary: A new Headmaster, a Winter Garden Festival, and more problems than SeeD and Squall can deal with. It's really going to be hell for the holidays.
1. New Developments

_We call snow that falls softly... a gift from the Faeries...._  
  
Feet crunched through the frosty grass. There was a path not ten meters away, but it was being largely ignored in the snowfall. Wind blew softly through the region, chilling everything.  
  
Teeth braced against the cold, the man stalked forward. The jacket he was wearing did very little to block the chill wind, and his gloves were worn in all the places that actually helped. But he could stand it--he _knew_ he could stand it. Not being able to would have been an insult to himself.  
  
_A gift from the Faeries.....  
_  
Pulling one hand out of his coat pocket, he held it out, palm up. A bunch of flakes laded on it obligingly, not even beginning to melt as he brought them close to his face to examine them. He could feet the cold wind on his skin, and he smiled. Pulling his other hand out of its pocket, he picked up the flakes between his thumb and index finger. Then, with a final grin, he ground it into water, leaving it to freeze on his exposed fingertips.  
  
The Garden stood before him, blue as ice. Hunching against the cold, he took a moment to examine it through his unruly blonde hair. It should have hampered his depth perception that one of his eyes was completely hidden by the strands, but he had never stopped to mind.  
  
The footsteps he left behind him were being slowly consumed by the snow, and he reasoned that if he got to Garden before the snow stopped there would be no record at all of how he got there. Inhaling a lungful of the freezing air, he tired to whistle though cold lips. It was an old tune, set with words he had mostly made up:  
  
_About and about and about he goes,  
Where he stops, Nobody knows  
Where he goes, Nobody cares,  
And what he dares, Nobody dares.  
  
_Approaching the entrance to the Garden, he took a moment to go over his story. With luck, no one would recognize him--it had been some time since he had last seen them--and even if they did remember, no one would be able to stop him. Tapping a hand against his chest, he felt the ammo belt press into his skin. He smiled. No, no one could stop him.  
  
Eye skipping over the building, he watched for anyone coming out. Cracking a smile, he ran over his script once more.  
  
"Hello," he whispered into the winter wind. "My name is Nemo... Nemo Audet."  
  
_Nemo, neminis,_ he recited to himself silently. _'Nobody,' third declension common noun. Audeo, audere. 'Dare.' Second conjugation verb, 'Audet' third-person present tense.  
  
What he dares, Nobody Dares._  
  
"How fitting," he whispered to the winds.  
  
  
  


**Final Fantasy VIII**  
  
**Hell for the Holidays**  
  
  
  
I  


  
Selphie burst into the Cafeteria with a grin, waving a book at the pair sitting at the table. Both instinctively sighed--they figured that something enthusiastic was about to happen.  
  
"Guys! Look what I found!" Selphie said, tossing the book at the nearest person--Nida.  
  
"What is it, Selphie?" Quistis asked, resigned. _She_ was probably wishing that she hadn't come.  
  
"Read it, Nida!" Selphie demanded. Nida raised an eyebrow at her, then turned his attention to the piece.  
  
"The Centran Winter Holidays," he read off the cover. He thought about that for a moment, then something hit him. "Geez, Selphie, you can't be serious."  
  
"It'll be the perfect Winter Festival theme!" Selphie said. "It's so cool! There's this section about a holiday called Christmas, and--"  
  
"You're going to make the entire Garden celebrate an ancient Centran religious holiday? And you're not afraid of some ancient god striking you down for blasphemy?"  
  
"Blasphemy?" Selphie asked, confused.  
  
"You're making a religious holiday into a Garden Festival," Nida explained. "Isn't that a bit of a trivialization?"  
  
Selphie put her hands on her hips. "Back in Centra," she said authoritatively, "they had festivals to celebrate this sort of thing all the time."  
  
"Selphie, _those_ festivals were weeks long and involved the expenditure of most of the money in the Royal Treasury for food and games."  
  
"So?"  
  
Nida gave a despairing look to Quistis, who shrugged. "I think it's a wonderful idea, Selphie," she said, hoping that Selphie would run off to make plans and leave her to her tea.  
  
"I knew it!" Selphie said, grabbing the book and flipping it to a page which she had marked. "And there's so much the Festival Committee can do! You see, there's this thing called a Christmas Tree, and there are decorations, and--"  
  
"Seems like you'll have your hands full, Selphie," Quistis remarked. Selphie nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"That's why you're going to help me with it," she declared.  
  
Nida choked on his coffee. "'ey?" he managed to get out by the time the liquid had stopped scalding his windpipe.  
  
"There's too much for the Committee to do, so we're looking to get a few new members--just to help out this time around," she added hastily. "And I knew you two would help out--"  
  
"Oh, no. No way," Nida said emphatically. "You can go convince Squall or something. I'm not in a very holiday-y mood."  
  
"Come _on_!" Selphie said. "You _have_ to help! We need you guys!"  
  
"Selphie," Quistis began gently. "How are we supposed to help? We know nothing about--" she glanced at the page again. "--Christmas."  
  
"I can teach you!" Selphie said. "It'll be fun. And we'll be bringing the joy of the holidays to a whole lot of people! It'll be so nice...."  
  
Quistis sighed, deciding that giving in was probably the most painless option. "All right," she said.  
  
"Booyaka!" Selphie yelled, probably using her pet exclamation for the first time in actual speech. "How about you, Nida?"  
  
"Why should I help?" he asked.  
  
Selphie grinned, clasping her hands behind her back. Nida began to get a very bad feeling.  
  
"Er...." he started.  
  
"If you don't, I'll tell everyone about that time you... you know, in Timber...." she trailed off. Nida turned a few shades paler.  
  
"You're bluffing," he said.  
  
Selphie turned to Quistis. "Hey, Quistis," she said. "Do the words Self-Sealing Stem Bolt and Galbadian Adjunct Military Data CPU mean anything to you?"  
  
Nida jumped up. "Okay, okay!" he said, turning a deep scarlet. "I'll help."  
  
"Great!" Selphie said, once more adopting her air of enthusiastic innocence. "I'll see you at the Committee meeting!"  
  
Selphie jogged off, no doubt to find more unwilling victims. Nida turned to Quistis, who was raising an eye curiously at him.  
  
"It's an episode of my life I'd prefer not to revisit," he muttered, gulping down the rest of his drink.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Commander Leonhart waited at attention, shivering slightly inside the black trenchcoat he had appropriated from the Garden equipment stores. His feet were already numbing, and the Balamb Train Station's lack of any substantial doors--or any doors at all, for that matter--at the entrance wasn't helping much. Huge heater fans dotted one of the walls separating the offices from the station proper, but all they were really managing to do was melt the snow that blew in and send it flowing back out to freeze into ice. The warm air circulating unevenly made most people waiting sweat and shiver by turns, resulting in that most of the people watching as the train pulled in were made truly miserable in a matter of minutes.  
  
A number of transportation officials swarmed the train, making sure everything was all right before they offloaded the passengers. There was the usual general flurry of people finding their rides and liaisons, Squall being heartily ignored by most of them. Squall couldn't care less. Scanning the disembarking passengers, he carefully watched for a semifamiliar face--he had only seen it twice before, in photographs, and all he could really remember was _blonde hair, brown eyes_--and hoped that she hadn't been caught up in beurocratic difficulties again.  
  
What seemed to be the last passenger had stepped off the train within ten minutes (thanks to the improved transportation practices), and Squall checked his watch. Glancing at a note he had brought, he verified that it was, indeed, the right train he was waiting for, and frowned. Dammit, the least the Garden Tribunal could do was send him a _message_ if something went wrong--  
  
"Thank you, _sir_, but I can handle my own luggage," a sharp feminine voice snapped from inside the train. There was the sound of fabric rustling and a light-haired figure appeared from within the train, muttering something about "damn social norms" and reshouldering one of her packs irately. Tall but solidly built, she gave the impression of a wolf with her graceful features and stalking gait. Long hair was tied back in a precise ponytail, and any observer would have been hard-pressed to find so much as one strand out of place.  
  
Glancing over the dispersing crowd, the woman spotted Squall and made a beeline straight for him. Dropping her suitcase gracelessly, she raised a hand in the traditional SeeD salute.  
  
"Denalek C. ValHalla, sent here by the SeeD Tribunal on Winter Island. I'll guess that you're Commander Leonhart."  
  
Squall nodded, returning the salute. "I'm here to escort you back to Garden," he said. "I'll be your aide until you get to know your way around."  
  
"Thank you," ValHalla said, extending a hand. Squall shook it firmly. "I'm sorry about the mix-ups in Trabia. The Tribunal really didn't mean to keep you waiting this long. What have you been doing for a Headmaster?"  
  
Squall resisted the urge to grimace. "Garden has been run by myself, along with representatives from the Student Council, Instructor's Council, and Faculty."  
  
"I hear you've been doing a good job of it," ValHalla commented. "Well, shall we get going? I have the feeling that I'll be needed in official capacity soon."  
  
Squall nodded. Out of habit, he bent over to pick up her suitcase for her, only to have his hand close around empty air as she snatched it away.  
  
"I'd prefer to keep track of my own materials, if you don't mind," she said as Squall awkwardly straightened up again. Do you have a car here, or do we walk?"  
  
"One of the SeeDs should be waiting in the lot with a transport," Squall said, and ValHalla nodded and started walking. Squall fell into place beside her. "I'm sorry if it's not the transportation you're used to, but we don't have much of an extra budget for luxuries."  
  
ValHalla laughed. "Commander, I took the sea trip from the Tribunal to Galbadia on a commandeered munitions transport left over from the Sorceress War. After that ride, a SeeD transport looks like a limousine. Come on, let's get going."  
  
ValHalla quickened her pace, leaving Squall to hurry along behind her. He sighed, breath making a white cloud in the air. He had the feeling Headmaster ValHalla was going to be a hard one to keep up with.


	2. Vitally Important Issues

II  


  
_"Good morning, Garden! Here are the day's announcements...."_  
  
Nemo sat sprawled on a bench outside the Library, eye skipping over the people in the halls as they passed. No one gave him too much notice--he was bulky enough to pass for one of the Garden's non-SeeD military students, and he was quiet enough not to annoy anyone. He had gone largely unnoticed for the last three hours, waiting for the Garden to wake up. Now, Oh Six Hundred on the mark, anyone not awake was _being_ roused by the voice calling out the day's useless news over the PA system.  
  
_"Instructor number 132, Jame Danels, will be holding a Survival Techniques exercise at noon. Anyone signed up is expected to meet in the Training Center commons fifteen minutes before the exercise. The Garden Festival Committee is looking for volunteers to decorate for the Winter Festival, 'Centran Lights.'"_  
  
There was a pause, one that Nemo interpreted as the announcer wondering what idiot had come up with the theme.  
  
_"Also, today we'll be welcoming our new Headmaster to Garden. She'll be giving a speech at Ten Hundred Hours; all planning to attend should meet in the Quad at least fifteen minutes before hand. Thank you, and have a nice day."_  
  
"Hey."  
  
A voice floated over to him, and Nemo glanced to one side to see a woman, brown hair falling to her chin, leaning on the railing nearby and not facing him. Light glinted off a ring twined around her right index finger, flashing silver.  
  
"You kept me waiting," the woman said, to all outward appearances speaking to the water.  
  
Nemo stood up, moving over to stand next to her. Comparatively she was very slight, but he had a realistic idea of who would win in a fight between the two. This woman had a deal more than empty beauty. "Sorry, baby," he whispered.  
  
"You've got what you need?" the woman asked, not even glancing up.  
  
"I got everything handled, Lialla."  
  
"Time and place?"  
  
"...except for a time and place."  
  
The woman sighed. "You can't keep me waiting forever, you know," she remarked, turning to face him. "This whole business is distasteful. I want to get it over with as fast as I can."  
  
"I thought you said it was a great opportunity."  
  
"I still think that."  
  
"You nervous?"  
  
The woman straightened up. "Hell, I'm not afraid for any of my girls. I just think you're in over your head."  
  
"That's the way I _like_ it, baby," Nemo reassured with a crooked grin. The woman shook her head.  
  
"All right. We're helping you out, remember that. But this is coming off'a _my_ account, so don't take too long figuring out what's going on. I want us both to be safe at home in the Desert again. I'm worried for you with all these SeeD characters around."  
  
Nemo bent forward to whisper something in her ear. She listened for a moment, then nodded. Nemo straightened up.  
  
"I got it," she said. "Lie low, now. Get on peoples' good sides. I'll miss you 'til the time comes."  
  
"G'bye, baby," Nemo whispered as the woman silently moved off.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
"Headmaster on the Bridge," Nida called out smoothly as the doors slid open to admit Squall and their newest official. The senior SeeDs rose to their feet, each offering a salute that was returned curtly by ValHalla.  
  
"Mr. Nida, that's really not necessary," ValHalla said. "To the best of my knowledge this is a Garden, not a ship."  
  
"That's a debatable point," Nida said. "Have a seat, Headmaster. Welcome to your new office."  
  
ValHalla looked around the room. There was a desk facing a semicircular meeting table on one side, an overstuffed chair placed behind it. "Thank you," she said, motioning the representatives to take seats in the slightly less comfortably rolling office chairs lining the meeting table. Glancing over the group, she made herself comfortable in her seat. "Why don't we start introducing ourselves?" she asked. "Nida I know, as well as Commander Leonhart. I'm Denalek ValHalla, newly assigned from the Tribunal. You can call me Den here, but in public I'll expect to be addressed as Headmaster." Glancing at Nida, she flashed a grin. "I run a tight ship," she said, "but I'm usually not terrible to get along with. Who are all of you?"  
  
Nida glanced along the table, then cleared his throat. "I guess I'll be making the introductions." Motioning to each of the SeeDs in turn, he said "This is Miranda Xu, SeeD Rank A. She and I are the representatives for the Instructors. Those two--" he waved a hand at the next two in line, "--are Quistis Trepe and Haily Grimjaw. They're here as voices for the Student Council. Finally, we come to Iohan Mesmer--" he indicated a tall man in a long red robe and a hat that should have made it impossible to see anything except through peripheral vision, "--our resident Chief of Faculty. You might know him--the Tribunal just sent him down a few months ago. The man in black you already know--our esteemed Military Commander, Squall Leonhart."  
  
Squall frowned.  
  
"We six form the Administrative Committee," Nida explained. "You can come to us with anything you need help with."  
  
"I'll need to," Valhalla said. "So... What's first on the agenda today? Any vitally important issues?"  
  
"Just one," Nida said, unable to suppress both a grin and a shudder. "The chairman of the Garden Festival Committee, Selphie Tilmett, SeeD Rank Twenty-Six, wants to talk to you about the upcoming Winter Festival. It seems like she needs express approval for some of the more... extravagant... decorations."  
  
ValHalla stared at him for a moment. Nida tried not to let any emotion show on his face, but a small smile escaped anyway.  
  
"I swear that by the time you're finished telling me, I won't want to know anymore," Valhalla said.


	3. Concerning Selphie

III  


  
"Let me get this straight. You want me to order a giant evergreen tree from Trabia assessed for aesthetics, cut down, and rush-delivered here... _alive?"_  
  
Headmaster ValHalla nodded, steepling her fingers in front of her face. "Exactly," she said. Mesmer groaned.  
  
"Do you have any idea the paperwork I'll have to go through? The transportation costs? The sheer damn embarassment of explaining that I want someone to drag a _tree_ halfway around the globe? I hate to complain, Headmaster, I really do, but--" Mesmer thought for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his next statement. "This is insane!"  
  
"Point?"  
  
Mesmer stared at the Headmaster. ValHalla leaned back, taking a deep breath.  
  
"I can explain my reasoning for this," she said. "All of Garden is going through a lot of stress right now. Everyone's still getting used to the Tribunal running affairs, and the transition to a new Headmaster can't be easy. The tree is going to be the focal point of this year's Winter Festival, or so I understand--and we have one _large_ winter festival coming up. I'd like to make that festival as extraordinary as I can. It'll take people's minds off of all the changes, at least. This place could use a morale boost."  
  
Mesmer gave a long-suffering sigh. "Aren't there easier ways?"  
  
"No doubt. But this is what the Festival Committee has planned--and if _you_ want to take on the responsibility of planning and organizing the Festivals from now on, slip them a note. For now, just requisition the supplies. Okay?"  
  
Mesmer stood, nodding unhappily. "Yes, sir," he said.  
  
"Trust me, Iohan," ValHalla urged. "I have other reasons for this. Let's just say that it's vital to have an impressive Festival this time around."  
  
Mesmer nodded. "I'll do all I can, sir," he said. "But I want you to know that I don't like this one bit."  
  
"Objection noted," ValHalla said. "Now get out of my office."  
  
Mesmer gratefully took the chance to leave.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
"Squall!"  
  
Squall ground to a halt outside the library, turning around to see Selphie sprinting at him. He stepped aside almost reflexively, earning himself a reproachful look as she slowed down quickly enough to not slam into him.  
  
"You got the memorandem, didn't you?" Selphie asked.  
  
Squall nodded.  
  
"Are _you_ doing anything to help the Festival Committee yet?" Selphie asked slyly, certain that she would be able to drag him into doing _something_.  
  
Squall, however, was prepared. "I'm not vetoing it on the grounds that importing all the supplies will deplete the Garden funds and hiring foreign musicians will compromise security," he answered, deadpan. Selphie blinked at him.  
  
"Right," she said meekly. "Er, thanks!"  
  
Deciding her efforts would best be spent elsewhere, she darted off.  
  
"Smooth," a voice chuckled from off to the side. Squall turned to see a man lounging on the bench across from the library, watching him out of one green eye from under a mop of dirty-blonde hair. After a few moments of trying to match the face with a name, Squall gave up and decided that the man was a visitor to Garden.  
  
"Welcome to Garden," he said pleasantly. "I'm the Commander here. Do you need help with anything?"  
  
"I'm fine, Squall," the man said. "How's it with you?"  
  
There was something unnerving about the way he addressed him. The fact that he knew his name didn't bother Squall so much--if he knew anything about Garden, as soon as Squall had introduced himself as the Commander he should presumably have been able to attach a name to the title. But there was something odd in the tone of his voice--and the calculated too-casual air about him.  
  
The man didn't bother to wait for an answer to his question. "I've been out for a while, doing some odd jobs," he said. "You know, jack-of-all-trades type work. I see you've got a nice set-up here, though. Seen Ellone recently? What does she think of all this?"  
  
Squall's eyes instantly narrowed. Who _was_ this freak? "I don't think that's really your buisiness, sir," he said as politely as he could.  
  
"Hey, just wondering about an old friend," the man said, flashing him a disarming grin. "I hear you've been having trouble. But I see your old cadre is still around." He laughed. "And Selphie seems as excitable as ever."  
  
_Old cadre...?_ Squall wondered. He folded his arms. "Do I know you?" he asked.  
  
The green eye scrutinized him for a moment. "That's unfair. How am I supposed to answer that?" he asked. "I don't know if you know me. Do you?"  
  
For a moment, the only noise came from the hum of the recirculated air. With an effort of will, Squall shoved the matter out of his head. "Welcome to Garden," he said coldy. "I hope you enjoy your stay."  
  
Hoping to avoid a response, he turned on his heel and stalked off towards the library. Even so, a cocky "See'ya, Squall," rang out after him, mocking him.


	4. Unease

IV  


  
"Are you sure this doesn't compromise some obscure safety code?" Nida asked hopefully, hanging a sprig of something Selphie referred to as "mistletoe" above the entrance to the Quad. "I mean," he continued, "If this falls off, someone could trip on it and break their neck. Honestly, I don't see how we can expose people to that kind of risk in good conscience."  
  
Quistis glanced over, shaking her head. "Quit complaining," she said. "Look, you could be doing paperwork for Squall, whereas instead you get to help decorate Garden for the Festival. I know which _I'd_ rather be doing."  
  
Nida shook his head, trying to balance on the stepladder and secure the adhesive putty to the top of the doorway at the same time. "I'd rather be doing something rational," he grumbled. "Think about it. We're hanging bits of foliage around the garden. Not even flowers, too--except for those scary-looking poisonous ones. No, we're out mangling trees and bushes and random small--" he examined the mistletoe, making a heroic effort to keep his balance at the same time. "--herbs?" he guessed.  
  
"Winhill has its Flower Festival," Quistis said. "No one thinks that's odd."  
  
"Like I said, most of these plants aren't even flowers," Nida argued, climbing down from the ladder. "And what's the idea, anyway? Aren't you supposed to do all the nature stuff in spring and summer? It's the dead of winter. Nothing's even alive--which is probably the reason we're wasting our time with these. ...ow!" Nida muttered something impolite as he pricked his hand on a pine wreath.  
  
"That's the point," Quistis said. "According to _Selphie_ this is a celebration about birth, about life in the middle of death."  
  
"Right. Couldn't whatever god it was this time have chosen a better month to be born in?"  
  
Quistis frowned. "And you were afraid of _Selphie_ being struck down for blasphemy? Anyway, it's supposed to be uplifting."  
  
"Yeah, uplifting for the people who _weren't_ blackmailed into decorating for it." Nida gingerly picked up the wreath, looking for a wall to hang it.  
  
"Speaking of which," Quistis started. Nida groaned.  
  
"Oh, no. Don't go into that again. Not the Military Adjunct CPU story again."  
  
"I'd really like to hear it."  
  
"Sure you would. Everyone would. ...where did Selphie manage to scrounge up all these decorations, anyway?" Nida asked in a futile attempt to change the subject.  
  
Quistis shrugged, taking another wreath from the box. "It just seems like any story involving you and a computer would make an interesting tale."  
  
"Ha, ha. Don't you have a meeting or something to go to?"  
  
Quistis's hand froze halfway to the wall, and she dropped the wreath in surprise. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "You're right! I completely forgot!"  
  
Ignoring the fallen wreath, she scurried out the door. Nida watched her go.  
  
"Wow," he muttered to himself. "I'm going to have to try that more often."  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Squall glanced up as Quistis hurried through the door into the study room in the library, customary frown deepening.  
  
"Before you say anything, I know I'm late," Quistis said. "I'm terribly sorry. I was helping Nida in the Quad, and it completely slipped my mind."  
  
"It's no big deal," Xu said. "Headmaster ValHalla hasn't arrived yet, either."  
  
"Speaking of whom," Mesmer said as Quistis took her seat, "what do you think of her? I know we haven't had long to get a first impression, but...."  
  
Xu shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know _what_ to think," she said. "I can't figure her out."  
  
"It would be logical to assume that the Tribunal has her safely under their thumb," Squall said. "That might be why they spent so long selecting her."  
  
"Which means we're going to be having a rougher time of it," Quistis translated. Squall nodded.  
  
"The Tribunal is concerned, first and foremost, with alleviating the debts we still have. The fact that NORG is dead doesn't help their mood any."  
  
Xu shook her head. "Unbelievable. Two years, and they're still holding a grudge."  
  
"I've had dealings with them," Mesmer said. "Trust me, they can be quite vindictive. They live four to five times as long as we do, remember, and with that kind of lifespan comes a memory that can be quite...."  
  
"Uncompromising?" Quistis suggested. Mesmer nodded.  
  
"That would be the word."  
  
"Really," came a flat voice from the door to the study area. All four stood, only to be motioned back to their seats by a wave of ValHalla's hand. "I'm thinking its safe to assume you've been talking about me?"  
  
The four exchanged glances. Squall cleared his throat to speak, but ValHalla shook her head, closing the door behind her.  
  
"It's all right. Your prerogative. I'm not part of the _gang_ yet, so to speak."  
  
"It wasn't our intention to exclude you--" Squall started.  
  
"It never is. Don't worry about it--I'm not angry. I've been the newcomer enough to realize how it goes."  
  
A headache gave its first warning pangs in Squall's forehead. Now his headmaster was trying to guilt-trip him.  
  
"Won't you have a seat?" he asked, gesturing to an open chair.  
  
"Thank you, no. I prefer to pace." ValHalla moved forward, resting her hands on the back of the chair. "SeeD Trepe?"  
  
Quistis glanced up, unsure of what she had done wrong.  
  
"It was my assumption that the Student Council was not given a seat in classified meetings."  
  
"I've asked SeeD Trepe to be here," Squall interposed. "I've come to rely on her advice."  
  
There was a moment while ValHalla considered this, then she nodded. "All right. I'll trust your good judgment," she said, looking directly at Squall. Squall felt his confidence take another blow.  
  
"I'm sorry if I sound impatient," Xu said, "but I have a class to teach soon. Could we get on with the meeting?"  
  
Squall breathed a sigh of relief, making a mental note to thank Xu for rescuing them all from a very uncomfortable situation. ValHalla nodded, letting go of the chair and taking a few steps to the side. Tucking one arm behind her, she used the other hand to gesture as she began to pace.  
  
"In the few days I've been here," she started, "I've been very impressed with what I've seen. This Garden is exceptionally clean and smoothly run, and morale is as high--in fact, higher--than what can be expected under the circumstances. Due to this, I've decided to expedite matters a bit."  
  
Everyone exchanged glances. _Expedite_ matters? What matters?  
  
"You may or may not be aware of the reason I was sent here," ValHalla continued smoothly. "While Garden is an excellent source of revenue and services, it is also a large administrative burden to the Tribunal. It was decided that I would be sent to determine whether or nor it was a burden that the Tribunal might want to invest in further."  
  
A bad feeling began to clench its hand around Squall's stomach.  
  
ValHalla stopped, turning to face the group. "The Tribunal is going to be sending down an inspector in a bit. I've requested a particular date--one that should fall right smack dab on the Winter Festival. If the Inspector likes what he sees, we're looking at a raise in funds, sponsored publicity...."  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"And if not?" Quistis asked, voicing the question they all shared.  
  
"If not, we're looking at a decrease of funds, more direct Tribunal control--or worse," Valhalla said.  
  
"Worse?" Mesmer asked. ValHalla nodded grimly.  
  
"Complete disbandment of SeeD."  
  
The headache spiked, and Squall began to get an almost physically ill feeling. Glancing around the table, he could see that the other three felt the same way.  
  
They had just been saddled with the responsibility of ensuring a future for over two hundred SeeDs, four hundred military cadets, and almost a full hundred instructors and faculty. And--as they had discovered--the Tribunal could be very, _very_ demanding.  
  
ValHalla rested her hands on the back of the chair. "I'm sure you'll want to get in as much preparation time as you can. Dismissed. Commander Leonhart, I'll want to talk to you later in my office."  
  
ValHalla turned, leaving the study hall. Squall closed his eyes, letting his head drop to rest in his palm. There was a moment of silence, then Xu stood up.  
  
"We should talk about this later--when I have more time," she said softly.  
  
"Agreed," Mesmer said. Heading towards the door, he muttered "What an unpleasant briefing...."  
  
The door swung shut as Mesmer and Xu left, leaving Quistis alone with the commander. She sighed.  
  
"This puts a lot of pressure on us, doesn't it?" she asked.  
  
_And by 'us' you're trying to say_ me, Squall translated. "Keep helping Selphie with the Festival," he said. "If we can make a good impression...."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Quistis said, patting Squall on the shoulder. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."  
  
_Don't we all,_ Squall wondered.


	5. Concerning Nemo

V  


  
"Selphie?"  
  
Selphie turned, trying to balance a box of colored plastic globes which she had obtained from a target practice room with one hand while holding a bag of ribbon in the other. Squall was approaching her from the direction of the elevator, with the particular look that said his body was already punishing him for the sleep he wouldn't get that night. "Yeah?" she asked.  
  
"How's the Festival coming?" Squall asked. Selphie spent a moment convincing herself she had heard him right. Squall, taking an interest in the Festival?  
  
"Er... pretty well," she said.  
  
"Do you need anything? More help? Funds? Decorations?"  
  
Selphie stared at him. "Are you dying?" she blurted out.  
  
Squall was obviously taken aback. "What?" he asked.  
  
"What's going on? You didn't seem to care much about the Festival when I asked you about it earlier. You're really scaring me."  
  
Squall winced. "It's nothing. Don't ask."  
  
Selphie stared at him for a moment longer. "Are you sure?" she asked. She had been around him long enough to know that he was lying--but also long enough to know that he was never going to tell her what was on his mind.  
  
"It's nothing. ...if you need anything for the Festival, be sure to tell me. Okay?"  
  
"Sure," Selphie said. "We're doing pretty well, though. I'll tell you if anything comes up."  
  
"Thanks," Squall said, actually sounding sincere. Then he headed off, probably to some official duty or other that was required of him. With a last confused glance, Selphie headed off for the Quad again.  
  
"You need some help with that?" a voice called as she passed the entrance. Glancing around, she saw the source--a muscular young man lounging by the directory, eyeing her from under a bed of light hair. The box being about to slip out of her grasp for the fifth time, she smiled and nodded.  
  
"Lots, if you don't mind helping," she said. The man got up and smoothly moved over, taking the box from her.  
  
"It looks like you have a lot of stuff to carry," he said. "I see you wandering the halls with boxes and stuff all the time."  
  
Selphie nodded. "I'm in charge of decorating for the Winter Festival," she said. "It takes a lot of work to decorate the whole Garden."  
  
"I can see. Well, from what I've noticed, you've been doing admirably."  
  
Selphie blushed. "Well, I haven't really been doing any of the actual _decorating_," she stammered. "I've been mostly seeing what things are supposed to go where, and trying to beg things from people. There aren't that many Christmas ornaments lying around."  
  
"I wish you had told me. I could have helped," the man said. Shouldering the box, he extended his hand. "My name is Nemo... Nemo Audet. I'm here visiting from the Desert--South Esthar. Esthar was colonized by Centrans, so some people still celebrate the old holidays."  
  
"Really?" Selphie said. "I wish I knew!"  
  
"I can't blame you for not knowing," Nemo said. "It used to be the main holiday of the Centran religion, but now it's just an obscure celebration that only the really old-school guys observe."  
  
Selphie smiled. "And you're an old-schooler?" she asked.  
  
Her smile was answered with a grin. "No," Nemo said, "but I was privileged enough to live with a few of them."  
  
"Do you think you could help out? With the planning and all?" Selphie asked. Nemo nodded.  
  
"It's be a pleasure--if you could do just one thing for me," he said.  
  
"What's that?" Selphie asked.  
  
Nemo waved a hand at the vast interior of the Garden. "This place is _huge_," he said. "Do you think... you could show me around?"  
  
Selphie's smile widened. "Of course!" she said. "Any time."  
  
"Thanks... Selphie," Nemo said, in a way that wouldn't bother her at all until hours later, when she realized that not once had she mentioned her name.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Kadowaki looked up as the door to the infirmary slid open, and an unfamiliar face glanced in. "Can I help you?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah...." the man started, glancing around the infirmary. "Are you Dr. Kadowaki?"  
  
"Yes," the doctor replied. "Are you injured?"  
  
The man smiled. "No. I'm visiting here, and I had heard that this was a good place to play a game of cards. ..that is, if you're not busy," he added hastily.  
  
"Not at all. Come on in!" Kadowaki said, pulling open her desk and withdrawing a Triple Triad deck. "I'm always happy to meet someone new--especially if they'll play with the current rules."  
  
The man extended his hand. "My name is Nemo... Nemo Audet," he said. "I'm a visitor up from the Desert in Southern Esthar."  
  
"Doctor Janice Kadowaki," Kadowaki said, leaning forward to shake his hand. "Do you play a lot?"  
  
"I used to," Nemo admitted. "I haven't had time, recently."  
  
"That's a pity," Kadowaki said, shuffling her deck and dealing herself a hand. "What do you do?"  
  
"Odd jobs. Mercenary type work. Which is why I'm here," he said. "I'm looking at enrolling in some of the public classes."  
  
"You'll like it here," Kadowaki said. "It's a very friendly place."  
  
"I can tell," Nemo said, giving his deck a quick shuffle and dealing out five cards from the middle. Laying them face-up on the table, he patted his pocket and looked up. "I think I forgot my die," he said.  
  
"I have one," Kadowaki said, pulling one out of her desk and rolling it. The point landed facing her, and she put down her card in a spot where it could be defended easily. Nemo looked over his cards, looked over hers, and made a selection.  
  
"You have a strong deck," he said.  
  
"I used to play seriously," Kadowaki said.  
  
"Oh," Nemo said. Placing his card, he waited for her to make her next move.  
  
The game advanced in silence for a few more turns, Kadowaki occasionally flipping one of Nemo's cards. As they neared the end, Kadowaki raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, Mr. Audet," she said. "Six to two in my favor, and you still have me beaten."  
  
Nemo smiled, placing the card. "Plus, combo, combo," he said. "You saw through the trick?"  
  
"Not soon enough," Kadowaki said. "I'm impressed. Not many people know how to play that way--or like to, at least."  
  
"When playing with all the special rules, I find it's best to let my opponents take most of my cards," Nemo said. "A friend of mine taught me. Just force them into radiating out from one point, and think ahead. If you're good enough, you can use your last cards to get Combos from the opposite end of the board."  
  
"And, because the strong cards are already in positions of taking the weak ones, the Combos will carry," Kadowaki finished. "Grizmer's Rule. It's a hard technique to learn."  
  
"You _must_ have been serious, if you can call the tactic by name," Nemo said, surprised.  
  
"I made it my business to learn all I could. Did you know that Triple Triad is a great way to judge character?"  
  
Nemo shook his head. "No," he said.  
  
"There are so many different ways to play... and the conversations over a game can be quite interesting," she said, leaning back.  
  
"Tell me," Nemo said. "What can you say about me from this game?"  
  
Kadowaki glanced at the board. "Well, you think incredibly rationally--and your foresight is excellent. By the fact that you used Grizmer's, I can also say that you're not afraid of a few immediate setbacks in order to obtain your goal. I also know that to use Grizmer's rule, you have to be a very good sport--that's because learning to use it is usually a long string of terrible losses."  
  
Nemo blinked. "All that from a game of cards?" he asked. "Now _I'm_ impressed."  
  
"So am I," Kadowaki said. "In fact, I'd say your game is a lot like another good player I know."  
  
"Who would that be?" Nemo asked.  
  
"You should play him sometime," Kadowaki said. "He would be our Commander, Squall Leonhart."  
  
Nemo glanced at the wall clock, and nodded to her. "I think I will sometime. Right now, I have to meet a... potential instructor. Thank you for the game and the conversation."  
  
"Come back any time," Kadowaki said.


	6. Punishment

VI  


  
Lialla glanced at the potted plant as she passed, giving a purely mental snort of annoyance when she saw the sign--that one of the lower leaves had been split lengthwise along the vein, left still dangling from the limb.  
  
Running a finger along her jawline thoughtfully, she slid into the bench beside the plant and glanced down. Yes, there it was--a tiny scrap of paper sticking out from under one of the rocks in the pot. Pulling it out, she dusted the dirt off and--glancing around to make sure no one was watching--opened it.  
  
**Carissime**, it read in a scrawling hand that was almost illegible. Only years of practice allowed Lialla to distinguish the words, and only long study allowed her to read the bits of Centran dropped here and there. After reading it through, she decided that even these safeguards were unnecessary--the message was so cryptic that anyone reading it would have no idea what Nemo was talking about unless they knew him as well as she did.  
  
**I found a time and place: In the IV, on 31{go Oct to Dec}mas Eve. Big party. Hope to see you and your friends there. Should be a kickass date.  
  
Cum amore aeterno,  
Nemo.**  
  
"You love to make a big show out of things, Carissime," Lialla whispered. "But this is me you'll be hurting if anything goes wrong. I hope you know what you're doing."  
  
Standing up, Lialla turned to the potted plant. Leaning close as if to examine it, she pulled the slit leaf off and left it lying on the dirt.  
  
Nemo would see it and get her meaning. _Message received._  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
"I never thought that they'd have to airlift the thing in," ValHalla muttered, staring out of the huge picture window at the gargantuan tree that was being lowered by helicopter onto the Quad. Teams of SeeDs were waving at the pilot frantically, directing the tree left and right as they tried to maneuver the trunk into a brace that was usually only used for repairs. The huge convertible roof--probably the single most expensive aspect of Garden other than its enigmatic flight systems--was open to its widest, but on occasion a branch would scrape against the edge of the hole, and there would be a general commotion of people trying to get the tree to move away from the edge.  
  
Squall stood in front of ValHalla's desk, oblivious to the organized chaos several stories below. Hands clamped behind his back, he waited for ValHalla to acknowledge him. ValHalla had said nothing about why she had called him here, and her deliberate avoidance of the topic was wearing on Squall's nerves. Listening to her pointless small talk, Squall began wondering where the Tribunal had found this woman. She acted like one of the better interrogators he had had the misfortune of meeting--although he hadn't been the man's focus, he had _seen_ him work on a captive, using idle banter with hidden venom; a variety of tricks that subliminally convinced the prisoner that he was nothing, undermining his confidence and reducing him to a nervous wreck. The man had folded without the interrogator ever placing a hand on him.  
  
ValHalla turned around slowly, frowning as if she could follow the train of his thoughts. "How are the preparations coming?" she asked, sitting down in her chair and pointedly not offering him a seat. Squall had the feeling that he would be reprimanded for something.  
  
"I've overseen them myself," he said. "Everything has been arranged as per your instructions."  
  
"Good."  
  
There was a long pause. Finally, Squall decided that something should be said to prod ValHalla on with her lecture. "Am I dismissed?" he asked.  
  
"Sit down, Commander," ValHalla said, with a tone implying that it was an order, not an invitation. Moving to one of the chairs, Squall sat down. ValHalla sighed, steepling her fingers in front of her face. "There's no easy way to say this," she started.  
  
_Oh, hell,_ Squall thought.  
  
"I'm concerned about your... stability," ValHalla said. Squall was stuck between annoyance and surprise.  
  
"Sir?" he asked darkly.  
  
"I've been taking a look over your record, and it's pretty grim stuff," she said. "Abandoned at birth, most of your youth in an orphanage, most of your early time at Garden spent antisocially, a long history of clashes. And that's just the tip. Here we have records of your having to voluntarily fight figures from your youth; torture, imprisonment, more responsibility than anyone should ever face, not to mention a relationship with someone named 'Rinoa....'"  
  
Squall glowered at her for a moment. "May I take a moment to defend myself?" he asked.  
  
"Certainly," ValHalla said, leaning back. "If you feel that you're in a position that needs defending."  
  
_Damn you,_ Squall thought at her. "I have little memory of my early life," he said, voice flat, "and I do not regard it as being of any great consequence. The 'frequent clashes' mentioned in the record were the result of a childhood rivalry, nothing more. At the times where I was forced to fight against... acquaintances, I was forced into the situations and therefore do not regard them with any guilt. The episode at the Desert District Prison might be considered traumatic to an outside observer, but I believe that I have come to terms with whatever effects it might have had. And as for my relationship with Rinoa...." he was tempted to say that was none of her business, but fortunately his official etiquette came to his rescue. "I have not seen her for at least a year and a half, since the Forest Owls contract was dissolved by the Tribunal. We are friends, nothing more."  
  
ValHalla listened politely, nodding occasionally to give the impression that she actually cared. When he had finished, she nodded. "I don't want you to think that I won't take this into consideration," she said, "but I can't put too much weight on your testimony alone. After all, what crazy person doesn't think he's sane?"  
  
"With all due respect--"  
  
"I've noticed, in the time I've been here--and this as been backed up by other sources, as well--that you are abnormally withdrawn and stoic, that you keep acquaintances but no close friends or confidants, and that you display an interest in your job that defies all expectations for someone of your age. To tell the truth, Commander, you exhibit all the symptoms of a schizoid personality disorder."  
  
"I can assure you that my mental stability has never affected my performance," Squall said.  
  
ValHalla pulled out a paper, beginning to write something on it. "Even so," she said, "I'd like you so see Dr. Kadowaki for a complete psycological examination. Report there as soon as she has time to see you."  
  
Squall stood up stiffly. "Yes, sir," he said. "Am I dismissed?"  
  
"Dismissed, Commander," ValHalla said, an almost disappointed gleam in her eyes as she watched him stalk out of the room.


	7. Hard Times

(**Author's Note:**  


_ Symptoms: Schizoid Personality Disorder_  
A pervasive pattern of detachment from social relationships and a restricted range of expression of emotions in interpersonal settings, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:   
--neither desires nor enjoys close relationships, including being part of a family   
--almost always chooses solitary activities   
--has little, if any, interest in having sexual experiences with another person   
--takes pleasure in few, if any, activities   
--lacks close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives   
--appears indifferent to the praise or criticism of others   
--shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affectivity  
  


What did I say? ^^)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
VII  


  
"You know, the best thing anyone in Garden could do for me right now is to add a bar to the Cafeteria," Nida grumbled into his coffee, which looked blacker than usual. Everyone who knew Nida well could tell what that meant--Xu had once written it out as "the levity of Nida's mood is inversely proportional to the darkness of his coffee"--and most could share his sentiments.  
  
"Were you called up into ValHalla's office, too?" Quistis asked. Nida nodded.  
  
"Yeah. And Xu is up there now, and Haily is going in next. I tell you, the entire Administrative Committee is catching hell over this."  
  
"Over what?" Squall asked pointedly. Nida shrugged.  
  
"Over _something_. I don't know. Maybe our new Headmaster just doesn't like _any_ of us."  
  
"It's impossible not to like you, Nida," Mesmer said wryly. "You're just so damn cheery all the time."  
  
"Yeah, well, _something's_ up," Nida said. "You know what she ordered me to do? Take a week-long break from instructing, along with at least five hours of complete sensory deprivation and abstain from any strenuous physical activity over the course of the treatment. Damn it, I _hate_ not being able to fight! And this sensory deprivation crap...."  
  
"I know what you mean," Mesmer said. "As of tomorrow, I'm stripped of my Faculty rank pending a complete skills assessment." Mesmer pounded a fist onto the table, causing some of Nida's coffee to leap out of the cup. "There's nothing worse she can do to a guy like me. My work is _everything_."  
  
Quistis sighed. "This is all ludicrous. Iohan, there's no one in the Garden who doesn't know you're the best Faculty member here. Nida's classes have never been better off, and I--" she sighed. "I don't know what point she was trying to make with _me_."  
  
Nida leaned forward. "What happened?" he asked.  
  
"I'd rather not discuss it," Quistis said, "but... for some reason, the Headmaster seems to have developed an interest in my social life."  
  
"Uh-oh," Nida said. "Does that mean what I think it does?"  
  
"She's worried about my lack of boyfriends," Quistis blurted out. "I can't see why she wants to intrude, but of course I couldn't _say_ that...."  
  
"What happened to you, Squall?" Mesmer asked. Squall glowered.  
  
"Tomorrow, I'm to report to Doctor Kadowaki for a complete psychological assessment," he said flatly. Everyone winced. To have someone probing around in his brain, trying to figure out his deepest emotions had to be hell for Squall.  
  
"Does this remind anyone else of a bad Psychology thriller?" Nida asked, earning himself a few odd looks. "I mean, with the way the Headmaster is making us all go through these tailor-fitted hells?"  
  
"So, following the formula, we can expect that Xu's been ordered to...."  
  
Mesmer trailed off as Xu walked into the cafeteria, noticing them. They beckoned her come sit.  
  
"Join the club of Really Pissed People," Nida said. "What did they do to you?"  
  
"I'd rather not talk about it," Xu evaded. "Garden's mail just came through," she said, changing the subject. "Not a lot there. There was something for you, though, Squall."  
  
Squall glanced up, taking the envelope that Xu offered him. Opening it, he pulled out the paper inside.  
  
"What is it?" Nida asked. "Who's it from?"  
  
Squall read over the first few lines. "Rinoa," he said, confused. "She says...."  
  
There was silence as Squall read through the message, and silence as he put it down, thoughtful. Everyone at the table exchanged glances.  
  
Minutes seemed to pass. Without a word, Squall pushed himself away from the table and moved out of the room. The letter lay on the table, forgotten.  
  
Everyone glanced at each other. Finally, Nida sighed. "So who's going to read it?" he asked. Normally, there would have been a immediate objection to rummaging through the Commander's personal life, but the events of the day had drained them. Dully, Quistis reached out and took the paper.  
  
"It's Rinoa," she said. "She says that it's been over a year--that she misses him, but...." the sentence dropped off. Quistis put the letter down. "She wants him to understand," she said.  
  
"Oh, Hyne," Nida said, taking another gulp of his coffee. "That's the last thing he needs. The very damn last."  
  
"I think I'm going to find Selphie," Mesmer said, standing up. "I need a bit of holiday cheer. Anyone else interested in decorating? We can probably wallow in self-pity for a while while we're busy."  
  
"Hyne," Nida said. "Count me in. Maybe this is a holiday you celebrate with wine."  
  
The group at the table dispersed, Quistis tucking Rinoa's letter into a pocket of her SeeD jacket. As they exited, no one noticed the blonde man sitting just within earshot, smiling.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Footsteps crunched through the hardened snow, marking the trail towards Balamb. A black trenchcoat flowed in the wind, rustling with every step the Commander took. Absently, he fingered the letter in the coat pocket, mixed feelings welling up inside him. Lost in his own thoughts, he was completely oblivious of the man behind him, matching his footsteps.  
  
"Squall," a name called, and Squall ground to a halt. Turning, he wondered who else could be out here at this time on this day.  
  
_The man from near the Library,_ Squall identified with a frown. "Yes?" he asked.  
  
"You don't want to do that, man," the stranger said, a crooked grin plastered onto his face. "There's no reason to."  
  
"What?" Squall asked, irritated.  
  
"It's cold out here," the man said, digging his hands into his pockets. He stopped approaching once he was standing less than a meter away from Squall--a very uncomfortable proximity. However, guessing that the man was trying to gain some sense of control over the situation, Squall didn't back off. "Real cold."  
  
"The Garden is climate-controlled," Squall suggested, displaying much more tact than he really wanted to.  
  
"I heard all about the breakup," the man said. "Must hurt to be dumped like that. I know I'd feel bad."  
  
Squall considered feigning ignorance for a moment, then decided against it. The man seemed like he knew what he was talking about. "That's not a public matter," he said.  
  
"Well, I can't let you come out here and... expire, if you know what I mean," the man said. "I have an idea of how much you loved her. I can tell you she's not worth... what you're going to do."  
  
Squall's eyes narrowed. "And what am I going to do?" he asked.  
  
The man's grin closed into a tight-lipped smile. "Everyone knows about the high-and-mighty Commander Leonhart," he whispered. "It wasn't hard to find someone to tell me all about how you fell. And it looks like you want to fall again--hard, this time."  
  
Squall's brain slogged through the man's babble, finally coming up with something that might have been what he was trying to say. "Are you implying--" he started.  
  
"You're not gonna die here," the man said. "I'm here to save you."  
  
Squall opened his mouth to say that he was by no means suicidal, but something about the way the man shifted his weight interrupted him. He could feel a sudden adrenaline rush, and took a step back.  
  
The man pulled his left hand out of his pocket and swung it towards Squall's face in one motion, and Squall reacted instantly by catching the gloved hand in his right one. He had only seconds to realize his mistake as the man slipped out of his grasp and grabbed his fist, pulling him offbalance as _his_ right hand came out of his other pocket, holding a knife. Squall figured it out too late--by the time he had moved to counter, the knife had traced an arc through the air and slit his right wrist to the bone. A blow to the stomach sent him reeling to the ground, where he was pinned as the man put his foot on his chest.  
  
Kneeling, the man noticed the corner of an envelope sticking out of one of the pockets. "What's this?" he asked, pulling it out and opening it. Reading the message, he frowned. "What _is_ this? he asked. "You understand her decision... in a way, it's a relief? This won't do. Not at all."  
  
The man ripped the paper into bits, leaving it scattered on the ground to soak up Squall's blood. Turning his attention back to the felled Commander, the man checked his pulse.  
  
"You all right? Feeling faint?" he asked. "We had better get you back to the infirmary, shouldn't we? It's a pity I arrived too late, Squall. I tried my best to dissuade you. Remember that."  
  
The world went faint as the man picked him up, throwing his arm across Squall's shoulders and beginning to drag him back towards Garden. Unable to make sense of the events, Squall's mind gave up.  
  
The world went black.


	8. Concerning Christmas

VIII  


  
"Take these," Selphie instructed, handing a box of pale-green flyers to one of the Festival Committee members. "Put them on the stand outside the Quad."  
  
A flurry of activity had engulfed the Quad, with all of Selphie's committee members and recruits bustling to and fro, trying to get the decorations up and prepare everything for the Festival. This was the largest Festival Selphie had ever tried to orchestrate, and there was an air of anticipation and energy as the crews raced against time. People were coming and going hurriedly--there couldn't have been anyone other than the select group of people charged with decorating the tree who stayed in the Quad for longer than two minutes. However, Selphie's attention was continually drawn to the pair of people by the stage--sitting on the edge and watching the SeeDs who were swarming around the tree with ladders and poles, trying to decorate the monstrous evergreen.  
  
Deciding to take a break, Selphie moved over and sat down beside Nida. Nida was holding a translucent globe, staring at his distorted reflection. Abruptly, Selphie waved a hand in front of his face.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked. Nida jumped.  
  
"Hey!" he exclaimed as Selphie took the globe away from him.  
  
"You've been staring at that thing for the last half hour," Selphie said. "If you've learned any of the great truths of the universe, I want to know them."  
  
"Right," Nida said. "No, all I learned was that authority sucks." He sighed deeply. "Selphie, remember when you wanted to be on the Administrative Committee?"  
  
"Yeah," Selphie said.  
  
"If you were, you'd be taking sedatives now."  
  
Selphie looked at him quizzically. "Is it that exciting?" she asked.  
  
"No, our Headmaster is just that nice."  
  
Selphie was about to respond when she was interrupted by a voice over the PA system. _"Will the adjunct medical staff please report to the Infirmary? Repeat, will the adjunct medical staff please report to the infirmary."_  
  
Nida groaned. "Looks like I'm on call," he said. "Sounds urgent, too. Probably another Training Center accident or something."  
  
Nida sprinted off, and Quistis shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "None of us are very happy right now."  
  
Selphie scooted over, throwing an arm around Quistis's shoulders. "Cheer up," she said. "It can't be that bad!"  
  
"We all got lectured pretty harshly by the Headmaster," Quistis said. "Nida was suspended from teaching temporarily. It seems like he's in for some pretty serious stress therapy."  
  
"Oh," Selphie said, removing her arm. "She didn't mention _The Incident_, did she?"  
  
"I keep hearing about this incident, but no one will tell me anything!" Quistis said. "What's going on?"  
  
Selphie giggled. "Nida says it's the most embarrassing moment of his life. I like to tease him about it."  
  
"I'm not sure that's a good idea right at the moment," Quistis said. "We're all pretty depressed."  
  
"Oh," Selphie said. "What did she say to _you_?"  
  
"Well...." Quistis coughed and glanced to the side, mumbling something. Selphie noticed with surprise that she was blushing.  
  
"Never mind," she said, going against her first instinct and letting the matter drop.  
  
There was silence for some time, Selphie wondering what she could do to help her friend. Suddenly, she jumped up.  
  
"I know!" she said.  
  
"What?" Quistis asked.  
  
"I know what will cheer you up!" Selphie said, wagging a finger at her. "...a Christmas Present!"  
  
"Hmm?" Quistis asked.  
  
"It explains it on the fliers I'm circulating around Garden. See, you're supposed to get people you like presents, then you leave them under the tree and _then_...." she paused for a second for dramatic effect, "on Christmas Day, everyone gets to open theirs! It's symbolic of the gifts that the Three Wise Men gave to--"  
  
"Three Wise Men?" Quistis asked. Selphie blinked at her, realizing that she was one of the few people around Garden who knew about the Christmas story--hence the reason for circulating the fliers.  
  
"Come here," she said, offering Quistis a hand up. "I'll show you the fliers I designed. They explain everything!"  
  
Reluctantly, Quistis got up and followed Selphie as she moved out into the hall. Selphie grabbed one of the fliers resting on the stand by the entrance, and handed it to Quistis. Quistis took it, hoping that reading it would at least get her mind off what she had been brooding about.  
  
**Considered the major holiday of the Centran religion,** the paper started, **Christmas was celebrated once a year on _Duodecimo Die Post Idus_ (the twenty-fifth day) of December. When the Knighthood overthrew the Priesthood in a political power bid, precipitating the collapse of the Empire circa 80 years ago, the holiday was all but abolished. Despite this, it continues to be practiced by several groups around the world.  
  
Christmas celebrates the birth of the Savior of the Centran religion, J. Christ. Throughout his life, the Savior wandered the country, working miracles and serving God. He was, next to God, the single most important person in the religion.**  
  
"Selphie?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You don't usually abbreviate the first names of major religious figures," Quistis pointed out. Selphie planted both hands on her hips.  
  
"Okay, okay! Keep reading!"  
  
**On the day of his birth a star was said to have appeared over his birthplace, guiding three wise men to him. They gave him gifts. The tradition of giving gifts to loved ones remains today in the cultures that celebrate Christmas.**  
  
"'They gave him gifts' is a bit abrupt, Selphie," Quistis noted.  
  
"You're not supposed to _correct_ it!" Selphie complained. "It's the _thought_ that counts!"  
  
Quistis shrugged.  
  
**Christmas today is observed as a celebration of new life in the middle of a dead season, and the Christmas Tree is symbolic of that celebration. Because evergreens stayed green throughout the cold Winter months, they--**  
  
"Quistis," came a voice from down the hall. Quistis turned, dropping the flier as she saw Nida approaching. The SeeD's face was pale. Very pale.  
  
"Are you all right?" Quistis said, rushing to him. "What happened?"  
  
Nida shook his head. "It's Squall," he managed.  
  
Dread began to knot in Quistis's stomach as Nida leaned against the railing, staring at the light reflecting off the water and onto the wall. He swallowed.  
  
"Where's ValHalla?" he asked. Something about the tone of his voice made Quistis shiver.  
  
"Why do you need her?" she asked.  
  
Nida's eyes grew cold. "I need to tell her what she's done," he said.


	9. Madmen

IX  


  
There was a hard knock at the door to ValHalla's office, and the Headmaster looked up. "Come in," she called amiably.  
  
The figure that stormed in looked anything but amiable.  
  
Valhalla put down the memorandum she was working on, frowning. "Mr. Nida," she said. "Won't you have a seat?"  
  
"I'd rather not, if you don't mind," Nida said. "Permission to speak freely?"  
  
"Of course," ValHalla said. Nida planted both hands on ValHalla's desk, leveling his eyes with hers. "Whatever you said to Squall in that meeting was unfounded," he growled.  
  
ValHalla's frown deepened. "Instructor, although you may not be happy with your suspension, there is no reason to assume that--"  
  
"I'm not assuming anything," Nida growled. "I saw his face when he met us after that meeting. I want to know what you said to him."  
  
"That's none of your concern," ValHalla said.  
  
Nida's fist came down on the desk. "I am the chief medical officer of the adjunct medical staff, and I have the right to know what is bothering one of my patients," Nida said, knowing that it would be hard for her not to respect that.  
  
"That's no--" ValHalla started, then bit off the end of the sentence. "...patients?" she asked.  
  
"I just spent the last few minutes trying to stabilize his life," Nida said. "A visitor to Garden brought him in from outside. His wrist was slit."  
  
ValHalla leaned back. "Oh, dear," she said.  
  
"What?" Nida exploded. "That's no response!"  
  
"Calm down, Nida," Valhalla said. "Nothing will be gained by shows of emotion. ...I take it Commander Leonhart's life is stable?"  
  
"For the time being," Nida growled through gritted teeth. "Right now, I'm more concerned with finding out what got him into this mess in the first place."  
  
"And you surmise that I am the cause," ValHalla supplied grimly.  
  
"I can be reasonably certain that you're one of them," Nida returned.  
  
"Have a seat," ValHalla said. Nida glared at her for a moment, then acquiesced. ValHalla steepled her fingers in front of her face--a gesture that Nida was beginning to find very patronizing indeed.  
  
"What did you _say_?" he demanded.  
  
"You'll have to be patient. I feel I must explain my rationale for saying what I did to all of you."  
  
Nida scowled. Right at the moment, patience was not one of his virtues.  
  
"Before I came here, I was able to study your working administration for some time. Therefore, I could see that it was running exceptionally smoothly. I decided to leave much of the existing structure in place, hoping to take on the role of Headmaster and titular president of the Administrative Committee. However, I require a good idea of the... limits of the people I work with. You see, most of my colleagues agree that I am... not always easy to get along with."  
  
_That's an understatement,_ Nida thought.  
  
ValHalla continued, picking her words carefully. "Some time ago, I devised a method by which I could test my coworkers. It required access to the dossiers of those involved--which were, in this case, easy to come by--and a bit of questioning around in circles of friends. With the knowledge I gained, I could then easily devise a situation in which the person's control was tested to the limit."  
  
_Sadistic bastard!_ "Why?"  
  
"I need to know how much my coworkers are willing to take. The idea is to push them on a weak spot until they are forced to push back."  
  
Nida stared at her in disbelief. "Oh, Hyne," he started. "Dear Hyne."  
  
ValHalla lowered her hands, leaning forward. "Speak up," she said.  
  
"You don't get it," Nida said. "You really don't. Squall isn't the kind of person who will _push back_ unless he's in some physical danger from it."  
  
"His dossier said that he used to be extremely combative--"  
  
"I'd be willing to bet _gil_ that it didn't say that," Nida said. "It probably mentioned that he got into a lot of fights, and you _assumed_ that he was inclined to conflict."  
  
"Did I err?"  
  
"_Yes_!" Nida couldn't contain himself any longer. Jumping out of the chair, he glared at her, almost yelling. "What the dossiers probably _didn't_ say was that all of those fights were ones he had been prodded into by the Garden bully--that _most_ of them he didn't enter until he was forced to choose between fighting and becoming a bloody pulp! I know! I used to get the same treatment--not as often, but...."  
  
ValHalla nodded. "I see," she said simply.  
  
"With all due respect, sir--" _and that isn't much!_ "--I don't think you _do_ see!"  
  
ValHalla stood up. "I'll deal with the situation immediately," she said. "In the mean time, your instructor's license is restored and the sensory depravation sessions are canceled. Convey my heartfelt apologies to the rest of the Committee, along with the news that whatever penalties I mandated for them have been withdrawn. Dismissed."  
  
"Sir--" Nida started.  
  
"_Dismissed_, Instructor," the Headmaster said. Nida glowered at her, then spun on his heel and stormed out the door.  
  
ValHalla sat down, lowering her head into her hands. _I really jumped in with both feet this time, didn't I?_ she wondered.  


  
--- - - - ---  


  
Squall opened his eyes with some amount of surprise. He was in the infirmary, that much he could tell--and he could feel something tight wrapped around his right wrist. Those things weren't surprising in and of themselves--what was surprising was that he was alive to recognize them.  
  
There were voices from the office--someone was asking if he was awake, if they could talk with him. Kadowaki answered that yes, the person could--as long as they didn't keep the patient up too long. The patient needed his rest.  
  
Squall resisted the urge to groan. He hated being thought of as a "patient."  
  
A shadow fell over Squall, and he looked up as a hand pinned his shoulder to the bed. The strange blonde man was standing over him, grinning.  
  
"You look better," he said.  
  
The back part of Squall's brain immediately began wondering how he was going to get out this time.  
  
"You're still alive, at least," the man said, lowering his voice. "Thanks to me, of course."  
  
"Why?" Squall asked. If there was one thing he wanted, it was answers.  
  
"Say it."  
  
The hand on Squall's shoulder tensed, sending spears of pain through him. Gritting his teeth, Squall managed "Why did you save me?"  
  
"Better," the man whispered. Squall realized that Kadowaki had probably heard him, and cursed inwardly. If she hadn't been convinced he was suicidal earlier, she would be now. "Do you remember me?" the man asked.  
  
"No," Squall said bluntly.  
  
"We used to be quite good friends, you and I," he explained. "We met some time ago. Long time." He bent over. "The name is Nemo," he whispered.  
  
Squall thought for a moment. He didn't know anyone by that name.  
  
"It wasn't always," Nemo said. "You'd remember me by a different name. That's best left forgotten. Suffice it to say that I haven't forgotten you... that's why I saved you."  
  
Squall's wrist gave an unhappy throb, and he frowned. "Then--"  
  
"Why did I try to kill you in the first place?" Nemo smiled. "Think about that for a good long time, Squall. What happens now? You're going to take me seriously now, for one thing. So is everyone else. Except now _I'm_ the hero to them, and you're the only one who'll believe I have it out for you. You can rant and rail all you want about how I'm going to kill you, but no one will listen. At best, they'll think you want revenge on me because I stopped you from killing yourself."  
  
There was silence for several moments. Finally, Squall asked "Why?"  
  
Nemo grinned widely. "Why do I want to kill you? I'm not sure myself. All I know it that it's this great burning urge... maybe it's because I hate you, maybe it's for revenge for something you did and don't remember, maybe it's because I hate SeeD, maybe I just woke up one morning and decided it was the right thing to do. It doesn't matter."  
  
_You're mad,_ Squall thought. The infuriating grin widened again as Nemo straightened up, still whispering.  
  
"I'm going to let you recover, Squall. Then I'm going to kill you. And you'll never find anyone who will believe you."  
  
Nemo turned, moving out the door. With a few words to Kadowaki, he exited the Infirmary.  
  
Squall closed his eyes. Dammit, it wasn't fair! Nemo was right--half of Garden had thought he was suicidal _before_ this... or at least not completely stable. Like ValHalla.  
  
Involuntarily, he winced. If ValHalla had thought he was unstable before, what was she going to think now? This time, his position really _was_ indefensible....  
  
Squall was forced to admit that things looked bleak. He had suddenly been saddled with a lot more than he wanted to deal with. But when had that _not_ been the case?  
  
_No_, he thought. There was another dimension to it, this time. Nemo--the madman. Although, he was forced to admit, if Nemo was a madman, he was certainly one who knew what he was doing.  
  
And that was usually the most dangerous kind.


	10. Safeguards

X  


  
It was dark by the time another visitor came. The only way to tell the time was by the fact that the sky outside the window above his head was black, and that Kadowaki had left, leaving one of the junior adjuncts in charge.  
  
The door to the infirmary opened with a hiss, and Squall could see a figure step in. Muted conversation was audible from the other room:  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I'm taking over for the time being. Take twelve."  
  
"Twelve--"  
  
"Go away for twelve minutes. Leave. Shoo. Vamoose."  
  
There was a pause, and then the junior adjunct got up and left. The second figure turned, entering Squall's room.  
  
"You're up late," Nida said, moving to Squall's side and bending down. Pulling Squall's arm across his shoulder, he helped him out of the bed.  
  
"What are you doing?" Squall asked groggily. He had only woken a few minutes ago.  
  
"Moving you to another room," Nida responded. "You can thank me later."  
  
Squall's brain wrestled with that for a moment before he gave up. "Why?" he asked.  
  
Nida started dragging him towards the exit, and Squall tried to walk as well as he could. He felt extremely weak--probably blood loss. "Simple," Nida said, hissing through gritted teeth. "We're trying to keep this entire affair a secret--as much as we can, anyway. Rumors are flying all over the place anyway, but we figure if we can keep you out of sight for a bit, they'll subside. ...Hyne! How much do you weigh?"  
  
"Who's 'we?'" Squall asked, ignoring Nida's question.  
  
"The Administrative Committee," Nida said. "We stick together, remember? We're _there_ for each other."  
  
It suddenly occurred to Squall that Nida was annoyed with him. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of something to say--something to defend his position.  
  
"Nida--" he started.  
  
"Never mind," Nida snapped. There was silence until they reached the dormitory section of the Garden. Nida stopped at Squall's door, using one hand to support the Commander and the other to punch in the medical emergency code. The door hissed open, and Nida staggered in. Noticing Squall's glance flick around the room and his eyes narrow, Nida explained "ValHalla confiscated your gunblade and... a few other things. If you want them back, you can take it up with her."  
  
Squall grimaced, imagining the conversation that would likely follow _that_ request.  
  
Reaching Squall's bed, Nida set him down and turned to leave. Reaching the door, he turned back.  
  
"Is there anything you need?"  
  
Squall considered for a moment. Nida was notoriously sarcastic and skeptical--and if Squall had a chance of getting anyone as an ally right at the moment, it would have to be someone with a good dose of skepticism. Someone who _wouldn't_ take appearances for granted.  
  
Squall considered for a moment longer. Nemo had made a good point--the story would probably make people--especially skeptical ones--concerned for his sanity to an even greater extent than they already were. However, he needed some safeguard against what Nemo had planned for him. At the _very_ least, he needed some way to defend himself. He fully believed that Nemo would try to kill him again--what he wasn't sure about was the man's promise that he would let Squall recover first.  
  
"I need a favor," he started, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Spears of pain shot through his wrist and, grimacing, he collapsed again.  
  
Nida crossed his arms. "Name it," he said.  
  
"Bring me a knife," Squall said, before he had stopped to consider how that would sound coming from someone in his position.  
  
Nida stared at him for a moment. "You've gone insane," he said. "Stark raving mad. You're crazier than a malfunctioning Gesper if you think I'm going to help you out with that."  
  
"...for my own protection," Squall amended.  
  
"From what? Life?"  
  
There was a moment of silence. "Nida," Squall began. "Do you honestly think that I would try to kill myself?"  
  
"It was one of those things I said I'd believe when I saw it," Nida said. "I never actually believed I'd see it, though. You're not getting a knife."  
  
Squall almost brought a hand to his forehead. "I'm the Commander of Garden," he said darkly. "If I gave you an order--"  
  
"I would override it on my authority as Adjunct Medical Officer."  
  
_Dammit._ Nida wasn't making this easy--and neither making requests nor explaining himself came easily to Squall anyway. He closed his eyes, trying to think of something to say.  
  
There was the rustle of fabric, and Squall opened his eyes to see Nida pulling a knife out of a concealed sheath on his forearm. "It this what you want?" Nida asked--his voice implying that it was a purely rhetorical question. Stepping forward, he turned it slowly, so that Squall could see the light glinting off the blade. "Well?"  
  
Nida held it out, hilt first, just a few centimeters away.  
  
"Take it," he growled.  
  
For a second, Squall didn't more. There was something strange about the angle at which Nida held the knife, about the poised readiness of his arm. Guessing that the SeeD was going to snatch it away as soon as he made a move, Squall relaxed. Nida's eyes locked on his, daring him to take it.  
  
With all the speed he was capable of, Squall snatched at the handle. His fingers closed around it just as Nida's released, the SeeDs hand twisting to draw his own wrist across the edge. Squall dropped the blade in shock as Nida held out his hand, blood dripping from the cut and onto Squall's palm. Instinctively, Squall pulled his hand away.  
  
"I take it you don't like having my blood on your hands," Nida said wryly. Slowly, he placed two fingers on his wrist. With a brief moment of concentration, he summoned up the cool glow of a Cura. The cut sealed, leaving only a bit of blood to dry on his skin. He wiped it off on his other sleeve absently. "Now think about how it would feel for me to have your blood on mine," he said, bending to retrieve the knife.  
  
Squall stared at the red liquid running across his hand. He sighed, clenching his fist. "If you don't want to have blood on your hands," he said softly, "you'll help me."  
  
"Not if you intend to die."  
  
"I don't." Squall fixed his gaze on the ceiling, studying the play of light on the uneven surface. "Someone intends to kill me."  
  
Nida stared at him for a while. "Who?" he asked.  
  
"Nemo," Squall answered.  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that mean 'nobody' in Centran?" Nida asked. Squall was silent, and Nida heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Describe him," he said.  
  
"About my height. Blonde hair, green... eye."  
  
"Built like an ox?" Nida asked. Squall nodded. "He's the one who brought you in, Squall," Nida said. "It wouldn't make much sense for him to try to kill you."  
  
_Insane people don't make sense._ "You'll have to trust me," Squall said dully. He was all too aware that in his present position, he was going to be _trusted_ with little to nothing.  
  
"Play devil's advocate, you mean?" There was another stretch of silence. Finally, Nida shook his head. "I want you to know that I don't believe this at all," he said. "It's not exactly a credible point."  
  
Squall tried not to be disappointed. After all, Nida couldn't be expected to believe something Squall could hardly make sense of himself.  
  
"...but if it makes you feel any better," Nida continued, "I'll keep an eye on this... nobody. Fair enough?"  
  
A sense of partial relief flooded through Squall. "Fair enough," he said.


	11. Dance!

XI  


  
As Nida entered the Quad, one of the Festival Committee members tapped him on the shoulder, drawing him off to one side. "Word to the wise," the girl muttered under her breath. "Selphie is really cranky today. Don't tell her I said that."  
  
Nida nodded, and the girl hurried off. Glancing around the Quad, Nida spotted her dragging a long box toward the hall near the stage that connected the Quad to the ballroom on the very edge of Garden. Moving over to her, he grabbed one edge of the box and tried to help. "I have a question," he asked.  
  
"Mm?" Selphie said. She had a look on her face that gave the impression that she was either going break out in tears or kill someone, Nida wasn't sure which. She was deliberately not looking at him.  
  
"If you have to make a choice between trusting one of your friends of trusting your own common sense, which do you choose?" Nida asked. Selphie glanced at him in surprise.  
  
"Er... your friends, I guess," she said.  
  
Nida sighed. "That's what I was worried about," he said.  
  
Selphie stopped in the middle of the hall, opening the box to reveal it packed full of greenery. Pulling out a branch, she handed it to Nida.  
  
"What's this?" Nida asked.  
  
"Holly," Selphie said. "One of the traditions was to... deck the halls with boughs of holly. The band is going to be singing about it at the Festival."  
  
"Oh," Nida said. "What do I do?"  
  
Selphie pulled out a braid of silver ribbon, handing it to him. Pulling out another for herself, she said "you tie it up in this, then we can staple the ribbon to the walls. It's pretty easy."  
  
"Sure," Nida said, sitting down and grabbing a bough. Weaving the ribbon around it, he watched as Selphie worked with hers. There was something a bit too violent about the way she was treating it. "Selphie?" he asked.  
  
"What?" she demanded sharply. Nida's eyebrow jumped--she really _was_ cranky today.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
Selphie seemed to freeze. Only her hands shaking gave the indication that she was still alive.  
  
_Oh, hell,_ Nida thought as Selphie's composure collapsed completely. Putting aside the holly and ribbon, he got up to go sit next to her. Placing an arm awkwardly around her shoulders, he tried to be comforting. It was never something he had had practice with. "What's wrong?" he asked gingerly.  
  
"It wasn't supposed to be this way!" Selphie sobbed, hands crushing the holly she was still holding. "Everything's going wrong!"  
  
"What do you mean?" Nida asked, wishing he had taken that advanced course in counseling he had been offered. He had never _expected_ to become the ersatz morale officer for the Committees....  
  
"I wanted everything to be _happy_," Selphie began. "Everyone was so worried because of the Tribunal and the new Headmaster coming and--and I wanted to do something really nice and make everyone feel good and have a _holiday_, but now the Headmaster is calling in an Inspector who might shut down SeeD, and _I_ have to make sure that he's impressed, and no one understands what the Christmas festival is about, and then Squall--"  
  
From there, the words became incoherent. Nida feigned attentiveness, mind wandering. What was _he_ supposed to say to cheer her up, dammit? He and Selphie were the opposite ends of the spectrum! She was an optimist, he was a cynic. She wanted people to share in the joy of Christmas, he didn't care. And she had been doing her best to cheer everyone up in regards to this whole mess a long time before he came along. If this was what happened at the end of _that_ road, Nida would have been much more comfortable locking himself in his room and hoping for a Galbadian missile strike or something.  
  
Dammit, Selphie was right. It _wasn't_ supposed to be this way.  
  
"Selphie...." he started, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say in a situation like this. He was tempted to say that he understood how she felt, but that would probably require some emoting on _his_ part.  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause.  
  
"...let's take a walk," he finally said. Selphie nodded unhappily, allowing Nida to pull her to her feet. Nida offered her his elbow, and--with a weak smile--she hooked her arm through it.  
  
Tuning, Nida started off towards the ballroom. There wouldn't be as many people working there as in the Quad--the only decorating to be done in the ballroom, he understood, was to put up wreaths and garlands with candles, and that could wait until the gargantuan task of decorating the Christmas Tree in the Quad was finished.  
  
As they entered, Selphie's eyes darted around the expanse and she seemed to deflate. "We're never going to be finished decorating in time," she said gloomily.  
  
"Come on," Nida said. "Forget about that. You have enough on your mind right now." Thinking about the sheer overabundant decorative glory in the Quad, he gave a wry smile. "And, anyway, if you do even half of the job you did in the Quad, it'll be the best decorating job this place will ever have seen. Besides, who will notice if it's not just perfect? Everyone's going to be too busy dancing."  
  
Selphie blushed, glancing away. Nida frowned.  
  
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.  
  
"No, it's not that," Selphie said hurriedly. "It's just that... well... I can't dance."  
  
Nida stared at her. "Oh, please," he said. "Even _I_ can dance. Hell, even _Squall_ can dance! Stop pulling my leg."  
  
"No, really!" Selphie protested. "I never learned."  
  
Nida glanced back towards the Quad. _Why the hell not,_ he thought. _It'll cheer her up, and it won't involve me reassuring her with tales of tender moments from my own past._ "Do you want to learn?" he asked.  
  
Selphie stared at him. "What?"  
  
"I could teach you," Nida said. "It's pretty simple."  
  
Selphie started laughing. It was the most bizarre sight--tears were still glistening on her cheeks, but soon she was doubled up, howling with mirth. Nida felt himself blushing.  
  
"You can't possibly find the concept of me dancing that amusing," he muttered.  
  
Selphie shook her head. "It's not that," she said. "It's just that... for a second, you sounded exactly like Squall."  
  
Nida was now desperately confused. "Squall offered to teach you to dance?"  
  
"No!" Selphie shook her head. "That's not it. It's just that... oh, never mind. It was... at least two years ago, anyway." She smiled. "I must have really looked depressed," she said.  
  
"It's not hard to tell." Nida crossed his arms. "I hate to say it, but you are _lousy_ at pretending you're happy."  
  
Selphie nodded. "I know," she said. "But... come on. You wanted to teach me something?"  
  
Nida nodded, holding out a hand. "As long as this doesn't become the next Stem Bolt incident," he said.  
  
Selphie nodded, taking his hand. "I'll try not to tease you," she said.  
  
"Let's dance," Nida said, and grinned.


	12. Celebrations And Revelations

XII  
_Several Days Later_  


  
There was a familiar knock at the door, and Squall stood up. Moving over to the entrance to his room, he punched the 'OPEN' key and waited for it to slide open. When it didn't, he scowled and called "Come in."  
  
The door opened to reveal Nida standing there--in uniform--with another SeeD dress uniform hanging over his elbow. "I see you're feeling better," he said. "I take it no one's come to kill you in the past few days?"  
  
Squall shook his head. "The door was locked the entire time," he said darkly.  
  
Nida shrugged apologetically. "Kadowaki's orders," he said. "You know how it is."  
  
"......." Squall answered.  
  
Nida handed the dress uniform to him, waiting as he took it. "It's time for the Commander to make a public appearance," he said. "We need to show Garden that you're still here. There have been some uncomfortable questions."  
  
"Really," Squall returned flatly. "And Kadowaki's not afraid that I'll--"  
  
"You'll have an escort," Nida said.  
  
_Figures_. "Who?"  
  
"You get your choice between me, Nida or the junior Instructor's Council representative to the Administration Committee," Nida said. Seeing Squall grimace, he crossed his arms. "Don't complain," he said. "I spent some time convincing Kadowaki not to have one of the junior med staff chaperone you around. Apparently she still doesn't trust me for sneaking you out of the Infirmary at night."  
  
Squall stared at him. Nida shrugged.  
  
"Hey, that's what friends are for," he said. "Anyway, she'll get over it eventually. She's just a bit torqued that I went around her authority."  
  
"And you didn't bother to tell me this--"  
  
"--because you're so much of a stickler to the rules that you probably would have tried to drag me back to the Infirmary with you. And in your condition, you'd have ended up unconscious in the halls and then we'd _really_ have something to explain," Nida said. "I'll be waiting in the hall. Put on your uniform and come out."  
  
Turning, Nida exited the room. The door hissed shut behind him, locking with a mechanical _click_. For what had to be the fiftieth time, Squall wondered if he should be thankful or irritated that Nida was his friend.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
There was a knock on the door behind him, and Nida turned to key in the code and let Squall out of his room. The Commander was just pulling on his gloves, covering the bandage that still graced his wrist. Nida noticed him glance up at the sounds of bells from the direction of the main Garden ring, and shrugged.  
  
"It's the eve of the Festival," he explained. "Selphie wanted to celebrate the holiday properly--meaning on Christmas Eve _and_ Christmas Day. The band is here--as I'm guessing you can tell."  
  
Squall made a noise that was incredibly noncommittal.  
  
"Selphie has it all planned out, it seems," Nida said. "There's a party tonight, and everyone's brought gifts for other people in Garden and put them under the tree. Then there's the Dance in the ballroom, which will last until almost midnight. Tomorrow, everyone gets woken up by the Parade that she's making the band put on, and go find their presents and open them." Nida snorted. "Should be amusing to watch the chaos. After that's all done, the Cafeteria is catering some big lunch, and that's about when the Inspector should arrive. You and ValHalla will escort him around, present him with something-or-other as a sign of Garden's appreciation--Quistis is in charge of that--and send him on his way. That done, we can all relax and enjoy the Christmas cheer until we decide to go to sleep. _Sounds_ like Selphie's idea, doesn't it?"  
  
Squall nodded. Nida turned to him, hand on his hip.  
  
"Look," he said. "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but if we're going to be stuck together we might as well have a conversation. ...you _do_ still remember how to speak, don't you?"  
  
Squall glared at him for a moment. "Yes," he said.  
  
"Good." Nida started off towards the Quad, Squall following sullenly behind him. "You'll excuse me while I play doctor for a moment. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine," Squall said.  
  
"Lingering nausea, fatigue or lightheadedness due to blood loss?"  
  
"No."  
  
"In other words, stop asking questions. Right." Stepping onto the Garden ring, Nida made a wide, sweeping gesture. "Selphie's really done a number on this place, hasn't she?" he asked.  
  
Looking around, Squall was forced to agree. Garlands and wreaths dotted the halls, and every potted plant in sight was decorated. The Quad and Cafeteria areas were even more heavily adorned--the entire Garden was projecting a festive air. Nida gestured that Squall was supposed to go first, and Squall started towards the Quad.  
  
Halfway through the hall leading to the huge recreation room, he was ambushed by a yellow blur of motion. Selphie latched onto his arm, pulling him toward the Quad with enough force to make him stumble. "I'm so glad you're better!" she bubbled. "Come on! You _have_ to see what we did with the Quad! The tree looks _soooo_ pretty...."  
  
Nida coughed, and turned to Selphie. "So, I guess you'll be taking care of him for the rest of the evening?" he asked.  
  
For the first time ever, Nida saw a verifiable look of alarm on Squall's face.  
  
"Kadowaki said it was okay," Selphie answered. Turning, she gave Squall a broad wink. "She said it would be good for you," she continued.  
  
Squall turned to Nida, who held both hands up. "If Kadowaki says so," he said, and headed off.  
  
"Oh, come _on_!" Selphie said as Squall raised a hand to his forehead. "I won't be insufferable. I _promise_."  
  
Turning, Selphie dragged him into the Quad. For a moment, Squall could only stand there, staring at the massive changes and trying to calculate how much effort must have gone into creating such a scene.  
  
The entire lower level of the Quad was dominated by a massive evergreen, needles a dark green contrasting beautifully with the soft blues and off-whites of the Quad. Globes, ribbons and small stationary lights hung from almost all of the branches, and a huge SeeD symbol was perched on the top. Presents were heaped under the tree--Selphie had obviously gotten through to a lot of people with the fliers. Wreaths adorned the walls, and tables decorated with holly dotted the area holding refreshments.  
  
"Glad to see you on your feet again," came a voice, and Squall turned to see Quistis approaching him. With a small smile, she said "You may not want to stand there."  
  
Squall glanced up as she pointed, noticing that he was standing directly under some sort of plant with small, white balls. Stepping out of the doorway, he glanced at Quistis questioningly.  
  
"Mistletoe," Quistis said. "I'll explain later."  
  
Selphie burst out laughing. "It was the _perfect_ opportunity, Quisty!" she said.  
  
Quistis's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Yes, but he would never forgive me," she said.  
  
Squall rapidly decided that he didn't _want_ to know what they were talking about.  
  
"You were almost late, Squall," Quistis said, checking her watch. "Come on--the dance is going to start."  
  
"Where did Nida go?" Selphie asked.  
  
Squall jerked a thumb back towards the Garden ring. "Cafeteria," he guessed.  
  
"Oh," Selphie sighed. "I hoped he would be my partner again...."  
  
"Again?" Quistis asked. "I can't recall ever seeing you dance at one of these."  
  
"I just learned," Selphie evaded with a blush. "Anyway, let's go."  
  
Still being dragged by Selphie, Squall had little choice but to follow Quistis through the decorated hall and into the Ballroom, where the band was just getting ready to play.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Nida was leaning against the wall in the Cafeteria, drinking something almost sickeningly sweet that the Cafeteria workers referred to as "Egg Nog" when he saw her. Tall and lithe, she was dressed in a low-rank SeeD dress uniform and moved with a sort of wary grace that reminded Nida inescapably of something. She was moving amongst the sparse crowd in a way that Nida could recognize as trying very hard to not attract attention.  
  
Setting down his glass, Nida moved to talk with her. He _knew_ this woman--he was sure of it.  
  
Stealing up behind her, he caused her to spin around with a tap on her shoulder. For an instant the most remarkable hazel eyes stared into his--  
  
"Lialla!" he whispered, feeling as if someone had dealt him a physical blow. "What are you--"  
  
Lialla's face had drained of all its color in moments, and before Nida could finish the sentence she had mumbled "Excuse me!" and rushed for the door. Without a second thought Nida ran after her, bursting into the empty halls. No one was out walking around--everyone was at one of the social focal points, or at the very least in their dorms trying to get some sleep. It was easy to follow her as she ran all-out for the entrance.  
  
Rounding the corner to the entrance, Nida got a glimpse of her speaking to someone. _Nemo_, he identified, putting the name Squall had given him with the figure. Nemo turned to look at him, then patted Lialla on the shoulder. Lialla ran off--away from Nida--and Nemo made a gesture toward his side that was painfully obvious one of reaching for a gun. Nida ducked behind a plant, waiting until Nemo had wasted at least one of his bullets. With a quick flick of his wrist, he dropped one of the throwing knives from the sheath on his wrist into his hand. Nemo would learn something very quickly--no matter what appearances said, Nida was _never_ unarmed.  
  
Nothing happened. Cautiously, Nida stuck his head out from behind the plant.  
  
He looked around the hallway and cursed. Nemo was gone.


	13. The Hunted

XIII  


  
Selphie dragged Squall through the hallway and into the ballroom, which was almost crammed to capacity already. The band was playing, and a few early couples danced in the middle of the room. Candles, perched on every available outcropping along the walls, cast flickering shadows augmented primarily by the light of the moon and stars outside the snow-rimmed skylight.  
  
Quistis breathed an audible sigh, casting a longing glance at the dancers before she turned to Selphie. "You've done a wonderful job," she said. "Everything looks perfect."  
  
Selphie grinned. "Thanks," she said. "I was really afraid we weren't going to finish it in time, but...."  
  
"You shouldn't have worried," Quistis reassured her. "Isn't that right, Squall?"  
  
Squall was silent. Quistis glanced at him, wondering if he hadn't heard her or was just ignoring her. Squall's eyes were skipping over every single person in the crowd, as if he were trying to identify each and every one.  
  
"Squall?" Quistis asked. Squall started.  
  
"...what?"  
  
Quistis watched him for a moment more, then sighed. "You seem so... preoccupied. Are you all right?"  
  
"Fine," came the curt reply.  
  
"I know it's been a hard couple of weeks," Quistis started. After a few moments, Squall had tuned her out entirely. He went back to scanning the crowd, hoping against hope that the one person he was looking for wasn't there.  
  
"I don't think he's listening any more, Quisty," Selphie said.  
  
Quistis nodded sadly. "I think you're right," she said. "Squall?"  
  
Squall made a noise that effectively communicated that, while he was aware that she was talking, there were very few ways he could possibly care less about what was being said.  
  
Quistis glanced at Selphie, who mouthed the words "Go on!" and gave her a thumbs-up and a wink.  
  
"...care to dance?" Quistis asked.  
  
_That_ caught his attention. Squall turned to stare at her, face completely unreadable. "What?" he asked.  
  
"There have been a lot of rumors floating around Garden," Quistis explained. "We need to show people that you're still here--and still alive." A twinkle of amusement gleamed in her eye. "Anyway," she continued, "you're a good dancer. I've seen it."  
  
The way he stared at her was intensely reminiscent of the way he had analyzed some of the tactics quizzes in her old class, Quistis decided. It was quite unnerving.  
  
The seconds seemed to stretch on ad infinitum, growing more and more uncomfortable. Quistis opened her mouth to say something along the lines of "Never mind--"  
  
"Why not?" Squall replied flatly, turning and stalking out onto the dance floor.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Nida burst into the hallway at a run, eyes tracking left and right in search of Nemo. The man wasn't built for speed and he hadn't been gone long--there were only so many places he could have headed.  
  
There was a creak from the direction of the Training Center, and Nida turned in time to see the massive door at the end of the hall swing closed. Nida ground to a halt, kneeling to draw one of the long knives in the concealed sheath strapped to his shin. Re-sheathing his throwing knife, he headed toward the Training Center.  
  
As he had expected, Nemo ambushed him by grabbing him as soon as he stepped through the door. Hoisting him into the air by the front of his SeeD uniform, Nemo stopped suddenly as the point of the dagger hit his throat.  
  
"Stalemate," Nida hissed. "Try anything and I'll knife you before you have a chance to breathe."  
  
Nemo considered for a moment. Slowly, he put Nida down and backed out of knife range.  
  
"Smart man," Nida said, dropping one of his throwing knives into his hand. "You're Nemo, eh?"  
  
Nemo's eye shifted uncomfortably. "...I'm nobody," he said.  
  
"Thanks for the confirmation." Nida shifted his weight, balancing on the balls of his feet. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "More specifically, why are you after Squall?"  
  
Nemo's eye widened in what was unmistakably sheer panic, throwing Nida offguard. A moment later Nemo charged, taking Nida by surprise and slamming into him full-force. The impact sent Nida sprawling, his knives skittering across the packed-earth floor and out of reach.  
  
The tackle was poorly executed, however. Nemo failed to get a pinning grip on his opponent, who had soon twisted away and retrieved the throwing knife. Nemo rolled to one side, grabbing Nida's dagger from the ground and trying to balance it in his hand. The weapon looked strangely puny compared with his natural girth.  
  
Nida sidled towards the door leading into the Training Center proper, pushing it open and darting back into the area. Nemo charged after him, knife held at the ready.  
  
Nida halted on the bridge, balancing the throwing knife. Nemo ground to a halt, dagger still gripped in his hand. Nida took a second to evaluate his options--the knife he was holding was meant to be poisoned--only a _very_ lucky hit would be anything more than a minor annoyance. Nemo didn't know that, however--to the best of _his_ knowledge, he was facing someone who was a very skilled assassin. By the way he held the dagger Nida could tell that knife-fighting didn't come easily to him, and that he was even more uncomfortable with the light dagger Nida wore.  
  
Drawing back his hand in a move that he tried to make painfully obvious, Nida let the knife he held fly at Nemo's face. Nemo's arm came up, catching the knife in his forearm. Nida launched himself forward as the knife left his hand, twisting and snatching the dagger from Nemo's grip as Nemo realized what was happening and brought a fist down, striking a glancing blow to Nida's spine.  
  
Nida went to one knee, twisting and swinging the dagger at Nemo's calf. The blade tore through cloth and skin as Nemo lifted his leg, stumbling backwards. Nida leapt to his feet, charging at Nemo. The man was already offbalanced, it shouldn't be to hard to--  
  
Nemo caught his footing amazingly quickly, ramming his palm straight forward as Nida lunged. His palm connected with Nida's sternum, knocking the air out of his lungs and throwing him backwards, into the water. Nida managed--somehow--to gasp just as he hit the waterline, pulling some air into his lungs as the chilled water enveloped him. He dropped his dagger as he sunk into the artificial river, grappling for something to hang onto. Nemo would be waiting for him to surface--and this time, he _would_ have all the advantages of ambushing an unarmed person. All Nida could hope for was that Nemo would think him dead and leave. Then, perhaps, he would be able to follow him and attack him from behind.  
  
When Nida finally returned to the surface, Nemo was gone. Only a bloody throwing knife remained to say he had ever been there. Hauling himself out of the water, Nida tried to shake himself dry. He was freezing in the recilculated air.  
  
Moving for the door, Nida hoped that Nemo wasn't waiting on the other side. However, there were no mishaps as he moved out of the Training Center and into the hall, sneaking from bit of sparse cover to bit of sparse cover.  
  
But when he reached the potted plant about level with the erstwhile parking lot, he knew he was in trouble.  
  
He could see two girls--roughly his age, he guessed--about midway down the path leading to the dorms, both facing the dormitory corridors with automatic guns drawn--presumably to convince anyone coming out that they would be better off back in. Each was dressed in a grey jumpsuit with a red rose emblazoned over the left breast pocket, and each one had a combat knife strapped to their side. Beyond them a group of six other girls stood, similarly clad and armed. Lialla stood among them, a grey cloth with a rose on it tied around the left arm of her now certainly stolen SeeD uniform. Worse, she was holding Squall's gunblade and ammo belt. Nemo was talking to Lialla in hushed tones, saying something Nida couldn't hear. Soon, they all turned and headed into the Quad, leaving the two girls to guard the dorms.  
  
_Desert Rose,_ Nida identified, thinking back on everything he knew about the south-Estharan mercenary company. The information was regretfully little--he knew that it was exclusively female, and that they hated SeeD with a passion. He also knew that Lialla was one of their high-ranking members, skilled and _very_ ruthless in what she did.  
  
Nida had only a very vague idea of what they had planned, but he knew that he had to stop it somehow. How, he didn't know. He was no match for seasoned mercs with automatic weapons, and there was no way that he'd be able to get through to the dorms to find someone who might be armed better than he was. He could go to the 3F office and hope ValHalla would be there to report to, but there would be little that she would be able to do even if she _was_ there.  
  
Nida ran over his list of choices, and decided that finding ValHalla was the best option. Turning in order to sneak back down the hall towards the elevator, he found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.  
  
"You shouldn't be out this time of night," the merc holding it said. Nida raised his hands, slowly standing up as she motioned him to. "You gave us a good run," she said. "But it's game over now. You're not going to interfere."  
  
Another Desert Rose came around the corner behind the first, and leveled a gun at him. Nida raised an eyebrow.  
  
"All this for one unarmed SeeD?" he asked.  
  
"All this for the infamous trickster Nida," the first girl said dryly.  
  
Nida winced. "Am I never going to be able to live that down?" he asked.  
  
"Lialla told us about you. You're not going to anybody's rescue tonight."  
  
Nida glanced from gun to gun, and shrugged bitterly. "I'll have to agree with that," he said.


	14. Dangerous Games

XIV  


  
The band ground to a halt as a trio of gunshots rang through the hall, stopping the dancers and sending most of the SeeDs into confusion. Within moments the invaders had spread out across the area by the entrance, keeping the entire ballroom full of SeeDs at bay. Nemo and Lialla strode in through the middle of them, Lialla patting Nemo on the arm as he stepped forward.  
  
"I want you all to sit down," Nemo bellowed. "Make a ring in the center of the room. Anyone moves, they get shot. Anyone stands, they get shot. Except for Squall."  
  
The SeeDs glanced at each other, but another gunshot convinced them that they had best sit down. Soon the entire ballroom had become a makeshift arena, Squall standing in the middle as the Desert Rose mercenaries made sure that no one moved.  
  
Nemo took the gunblade from Lialla, tossing it so that it skittered across the floor to land at Squall's feet. "Pick it up," he snarled.  
  
Squall didn't move. "What are you doing?" he asked, turning to face Nemo squarely.  
  
"I want a fair fight," Nemo said. "It's no fun just killing anymore. I want a fight, and you're the only one I can remember who's ever given me one."  
  
Squall tried to think of when he had ever given Nemo a fair fight, and came up empty. "And if I don't fight you?" he asked.  
  
"Then this will be an execution. And I will continue to execute people until I find someone who _will_ fight me."  
  
Squall frowned.  
  
"Look, SeeD," Nemo said, balling his hands into fists. "Cooperate, and one person will die. Don't, and a lot will. Not a hard choice, is it? Even _I_ know what you'd choose there. Put on the knife."  
  
Squall considered his options, finally realizing he didn't have any. Bending down, he picked up the belt with the scabbard and put it on.  
  
"Order them not to interfere," Nemo said, making a broad gesture to the SeeDs. "You'll regret it if they do."  
  
Without taking his eyes from Nemo, Squall took in a breath to speak. "SeeDs," he said. "You are hereby under orders not to move from your current positions for the duration of the battle."  
  
"Good," Nemo said, advancing until he stood well within the circle. Both of his hands rose so that they were poised above his thighs--a classical gunfighter's stance. In that moment, there was something unbearably familiar about him. "On the count of five," he said through a grin, "we draw."  
  
Squall's hand moved to his gunblade. He didn't want to play this game by the madman Nemo's rules, but with the lives of hundreds of SeeDs resting on his actions, he didn't dare not to.  
  
"One," Nemo said.  
  
Squall took a moment to run through his list of potential tactics--something he always did before a fight.  
  
"Two."  
  
Squall had no GFs junctioned, and it was obvious from the bulges in Nemo's pockets that he had at least two guns. The gunblade might or might not be loaded, but even if it was there would be no way he could bring it to bear in time to get a shot off before Nemo. Even if he could do that, the only purpose for the gun on a gunblade was to augment slash damage, not function as a gun in its own regard. The accuracy rating for any sort of range was abysmal.  
  
"Three...."  
  
Nemo was insane, and logical tactics didn't work against insane people because they were designed to work against logical thinkers. The only way to combat an insane man was to be just as eccentric and unpredictable as he was.  
  
_"Four...."_  
  
Squall tensed.  
  
An instant before Nemo yelled "Five!" his hands had darted into his pockets, emerging with a pair of archaic sixshooters from which he fired one shot at Squall. Squall ducked into a roll, coming to his feet and drawing his blade in one motion. In the same motion, he dealt Nemo a blow to the chin with the hilt, then backpedaled to get into a range in which he could strike properly. Nemo took another shot at him, which he dodged.  
  
Swinging at Nemo, Squall managed to knock one of the guns out of his grasp and send it skittering across the floor. Pressing the attack, Squall tried to anticipate which way the gun would point next.  
  
What he didn't anticipate was Nemo's ducking his blow and charging into him, knocking him off his feet. It was only through long practice that Squall managed to keep hold of his gunbade as Nemo dropped to the ground, grabbing his second gun and taking another potshot at Squall. Squall could hear the shot ricocheting off one of the walls, and hoped that none of the SeeDs would be unfortunate enough to get in the way of any of the flying bullets.  
  
Lashing out with a foot, Squall rolled and pushed himself off the floor. Nemo struggled to his feet at the same time, dropping one shoulder and charging once more. Squall sidestepped, lashing out with the blade, only to have Nemo's fist catch him in the stomach as the man passed. Gritting his teeth, Squall brought his gunblade around and buried it in Nemo's shoulder.  
  
Nemo's hand shot to the wound, grabbing the blade by the blunt edge and physically wresting it out of Squall's grasp. Stepping forward quickly to bring the hilt out of Squall's range, he leveled a punch at Squall's face. Squall dodged it, stepping back.  
  
Nemo tossed the gunblade upwards, sending it twirling end-over-end. Squall inadvertently looked up, following the sword for a moment as it traced through the air. The moment's distraction was enough for Nemo to plant a bullet in his shoulder, rushing forward as the blade clattered to the ground nearby.  
  
Squall dove for the blade, catching its hilt as Nemo twisted to follow his movement. A bullet bounced off the ground in front of his face as Nemo took another shot at him. As he got up two more bullets raced through the air, one ripping through one of the muscles in his arm and the other grazing his jaw.  
  
As Nemo threw one of the guns away--its ammunition used--Squall struck with a flurry of attacks that should have left Nemo in pieces on the floor. However, the man managed to dodge or deflect most of them with clouts to the side of the blade, leaving him with only a few deep gashes on his arms to show for it.  
  
_Of course,_ Squall thought as he feinted a slash at Nemo's face, switching the direction of his strike midway and cutting a line across Nemo's palm. _Anyone as crazy as Nemo would be crazy enough to parry a sword strike with his hands...._  
  
A wave of dizziness came over Squall, and he stumbled. His hand moved to the bullet wound in his shoulder almost reflexively, and he drew it back covered with blood. There was a moment where he stared at the black powder smeared across his hand, noticing traces of it on the floor where bullets had struck as well. He could have cursed--Nemo was using poison as well as lead.  
  
Nemo staggered backwards, aiming his gun at Squall. Squall's brain registered something odd about the shape and length of the bullet cartridge as he ducked preemptively, but he couldn't have anticipated the sound of five of the six bullets firing at once. Points of burning pain seemed to suddenly appear all over his body--one in his shoulder, one his side, two on his left leg. The other bullet went wide, hitting the ground nearby. There was a final shot as Nemo spent the last bullet in the gun, ripping a hole through Squall's sword hand. The gunblade was dropped as his hand released reflexively, and Squall was too busy ducking the gun thrown at his face to pick it up again.  
  
Nemo had approached as he threw the gun, and lashed out at Squall as he recovered from the duck. He struck a heavy blow across the SeeD's face, sending him sprawling to the ground. A kick sent the gunblade skittering in the other direction, and Nemo dropped to his knees and lashed out again as Squall tried to recover. The blow landed squarely on his neck, and Squall gagged.  
  
Through a red haze of pain, Squall could see Nemo's bloodied figure moving, and he felt himself being lifted to his feet via a crushing hand grabbing his wounded shoulder. He tried to focus enough to act, but a kick to his shin drove that out of his mind. He could literally _feel_ the bone snapping, and he was thrown to the ground again. Nemo backed up, watching him.  
  
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Squall managed to make it to his knees before he realized that he wouldn't be able to make it any further. The poison was beginning to display a greater effect, and his broken leg wouldn't allow him to stand. The gunblade was hopelessly out of reach, and he didn't have any other weapon.  
  
Falling forward as another wave of dizziness broke over him, he put a hand out to prevent himself from crashing into the ground. Supporting himself on his hands and knees, he could see Nemo standing in front of him.  
  
_Dammit_, he thought. _This isn't fair..._.  
  
"I always knew I'd win someday," Nemo said. However, there was nothing malicious in his tone now. Rather, it seemed as if he was surprised.  
  
Squall glanced up, and the sensation of familiarity came back. Frantically, he racked his brain for where he might have seen this man before. Goddammit, he wanted to at least know who this nutcase was before he died....  
  
Nemo dropped to one knee in front of him, grabbing his shoulder and dealing him a blow to the face. Squall could feel the side of his mouth split open, blood beginning to trickle down his chin. "You lost," Nemo whispered. "Damn you, Squall, you finally lost."  
  
"You're mad," Squall growled at him, aware that insulting Nemo was about all he could do anymore.  
  
Nemo punched him again. "I always wanted to kill you," he snarled. "_Always_. But I never could, because you always won. But this time, you lost. Damn you to _hell_, you _lost_!"  
  
Nemo's voice had risen in pitch during the rant, and Squall's vision blurred. For a second, his view seemed to shift....  
  
_Matron was scolding him again. Something about how he shouldn't let himself get into fights... that the other boy was a very special child, and that Squall could have killed him by hitting him too hard there, just near the heart...._  
  
_Great_, Squall thought bitterly. _So this is it. My life is flashing before my eyes._  
  
Nemo stood, pulling a knife out of a sheath inside one of his pockets, glistening with something that was doubtlessly poison. Squall's hand slipped in the pool of blood that was developing around it, pouring from the bullet hole that had probably doomed him. He could see a double image of Connor looming over him, ready to strike the killer blow.  
  
_Wait... 'Connor?'_  
  
Memory came flooding back to him, pieces suddenly falling together. He remembered the fight at the Orphanage--he had struck another boy near the heart, and the boy had had to be hospitalized. His blood flow had been damaged. Matron had punished him for that--and she had warned him never to get into a fight with _Connor_ again. Something about his heart being weak, or the bones around his heart being weak, or--  
  
--come to think of it, Connor had had blonde hair and green eyes.  
  
Time seemed to slow. Nemo dropped to his knees, grabbing Squall's right shoulder to steady him. Now that he knew what he was looking for, Squall could tell why Nemo had seemed so familiar during the fight--why Nemo had known (_remembered_) his name while Squall, memory damaged by Junctioning, hadn't ever recognized him. And the knowledge gave him one final chance to strike.  
  
Nemo--_Connor_--thrust with the knife, planning on burying it in Squall's heart. Squall twisted with the last of his strength, absorbing the attack with his shoulder as he fisted his bleeding hand, driving it squarely into the ribs protecting Connor's heart. The weak bones splintered, the punch driving the sharp fragments into the heart and lungs. Connor gasped, convulsing so hard that he ripped the knife from Squall's shoulder, leaving a gaping hole. For a moment, Squall could see both of his eyes--they were open wide in pain and shock.  
  
Connor fell to the ground, gasping like a landed fish. Blood was beginning to ooze from the region near his heart, and his eyes were unfocusing rapidly. Squall's vision was fuzzing sporadically, but he could tell that Connor wouldn't survive. He had killed him.  
  
Now if only the poison wouldn't finish _him_ off, too....  
  
Something hissed through the air, and a small stinging sensation pierced the side of his neck. Glancing up, he saw the slim figure of one of the Desert Rose mercenaries lowering her hand to her side, stepping towards them.  
  
He could feel each beat of his heart exaggerated as he reached up to his neck, extracting the drugged needle. One beat... two beats... three..........  
  
_I won...._ was the only thought he could hold onto as he slipped into darkness.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
Lialla bent down over the felled combatants, two of her mercenaries flanking her, guns brandished at the SeeDs who were restlessly sitting in the ring they had been ordered into. They knew that anyone who moved would be gunned down instantly, but with their Commander lying in a bloody heap on the floor they couldn't be expected to remain docile for long.  
  
Bending over Nemo, Lialla cupped his face in her hands. "Can you hear me?" she asked. Lowering her voice, she asked "_Where is the paper?_"  
  
Nemo stared up at her with eyes that almost didn't see. One strong hand reached up, caressing the side of her face. "Lialla...." he whispered.  
  
"The paper," Lialla said, straining to push all thought of tears out of her mind. "Nemo, carissime, the paper. The _paper_!"  
  
Nemo's eyes blinked a few times. With his free hand, he reached into a pocket and drew out a folded piece of yellow sheet paper. Lialla took it, opening it and slowly reading the instructions on the page. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly.  
  
"I love you, carissime," she whispered, drawing her gun. Nemo's hand clenched along the side of her face, and his visage contorted with pain.  
  
"Lialla--!"  
  
Lialla stood, pointing the gun to his head and pulling the trigger. A single shot rang out, ending Nemo's life. Lialla crumpled the paper in her hand, tucking it into one of her pockets. Moving over to the SeeD Commander, she gave him a cursory inspection. Shaking her head, she bent down and hoisted him onto her back. Standing, she glanced around the room.  
  
"My orders," she said in a clear voice only partly choked with pain, "were to ensure that there would be one death tonight, and one death only. Remain in this room. If you follow me, my orders may have to be sacrificed."  
  
Turning, she headed out of the ballroom. The Desert Roses followed her, moving backwards to keep weapons trained on the SeeDs. Finally they had withdrawn into the hallway, and Lialla nodded to one of them.  
  
"I can take care of this guy once I get him to the Infirmary, but you'll need to make sure no one bothers me. Patrol the area. Make sure no one gets out of that room until we're all safely away. Janya, you're in charge."  
  
The other girl nodded, and Lialla headed towards the infirmary, hurrying her steps so as to get there as quickly as possible. She had carried heavier loads before--that wasn't what was bothering her. It was partly the blood seeping through her "borrowed" uniform that was the problem, partly the thought that she was about to tend to Nemo's killer. She could only do her best to put everything out of her mind as--  
  
"Hey," a dark voice called out. Lialla turned partway to see a familiar figure standing between two of her Roses, arms crossed as the two held him at bay. Inwardly, she quailed. He was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.  
  
"Nida," she murmured, almost to herself.  
  
Nida's eyes narrowed. "The infirmary supply doors are locked," he said. "You'll need my code to get in. So, what? You've always been the humane one, and you've always known that I'm the best emergency med worker around. Are you willing to accept my help?"  
  
There was an edge of anger to Nida's voice that she couldn't ignore. She closed her eyes and nodded. "Let him go," she ordered the two guards. "We know each other well, he and I...."


	15. A Life In The Balance

XV  


  
The two guards glanced at each other and backed up, and Nida gave them a cursory nod. Approaching Lialla, he crossed his arms.  
  
"Get into the infirmary," he said. One of the Desert Roses behind him grumbled at his ordering their leader around like that, but Lialla simply nodded and headed into the room.  
  
Nida followed her, and she glanced at him. "He's in bad shape," she said.  
  
"Second room," Nida snapped. Lialla turned, stepping into the second room and lying Squall on the bed.  
  
"Those bullets were flanged and poisoned. He'll need something to stop the bleeding, and something to stop the poison. ...and something to counteract the sedative I hit him with to bring him here."  
  
"Don't miss a trick, do you guys?" Nida asked bitterly. "You had everything planned out."  
  
"_He_ wasn't supposed to be the one that lived," Lialla said softly.  
  
"I can tell."  
  
Lialla turned away, glancing around the room and locating the supplies she would need. Moving around the room and collecting the necessary items, she allowed Nida enough time to sneak backwards, hitting a small button on the wall.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Nida froze, fingers still brushing the panel as Lialla turned around. "...locking the door," he said. "Your Roses aren't going to be able to keep the SeeDs away for long, and we can't afford distractions."  
  
Lialla watched him for a moment as if she didn't believe him, then nodded. "If you're thinking of pulling something, the Roses will kill you," she said. "Probably literally. We're all vindictive bitches."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I won't try anything."  
  
Lialla seemed to believe him. Turning back to the supplies, she left Nida to finish his work. As an afterthought, he locked the door--just in case she checked.  
  
_There, Squall_, he thought. _I've done all I could. I wish I had knifed Nemo when I had the chance... I wish I had taken the time to listen to you and report Nemo to someone. But I didn't, and now I have to see about putting you back together._  
  
"Hey!" Lialla glanced at Nida. "How long can it take to lock a door? This guy needs attention. Help me out here."  
  
"Coming," Nida said.  
  


--- - - - ---  


  
ValHalla raised the wineglass to her lips, staring out at the snow-covered island. She had decided not to go the the Festival--mostly on the fact that she had managed to alienate most of the senior staff, and she would rather not destroy their Festival as well. So she was left here, staring out at Balamb Town and waiting for the pair of lights that would signal the Tribunal Inspector's car coming towards Garden. She was drifting rather far into her thoughts, not anticipating any interruption, so it came as a bit of a surprise when the intercom crackled to life behind her.  
  
"_What are you doing?_"  
  
ValHalla turned to give the intercom a quizzical look. Moving over to hit the **SPEAK** button, she paused as more conversation filtered through the intercom. "_...locking the door. Your Roses aren't going to be able to keep the SeeDs away for long, and we can't afford distractions._"  
  
ValHalla almost jumped. That was _Nida's_ voice. Moving her hand away from the speak button, she decided to listen for a bit more. Something was going on.  
  
"_If you're thinking of pulling something, the Roses will kill you. Probably literally. We're all vindictive bitches_."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I won't try anything."  
  
ValHalla started in alarm. This didn't sound good.  
  
"_Hey! How long can it take to lock a door? This guy needs attention. Help me out here_."  
  
"_Coming_." A pause. "_Hyne. What did your goon_ do_ to him?_"  
  
"_If you call Nemo a goon again,_ I'll_ kill you. And like I said, he wasn't _supposed_ to survive. The only reason I'm trying to help him now is that my orders said one death tonight, and one death only._"  
  
ValHalla set down the wineglass. hitting the **ID** button on the intercom. A mechanized voice replied _Infirmary Surgical Room_ through a speaker, overriding some of the conversation.  
  
"_--wanted to kill the Commander of Garden?_"  
  
"_He thought is was a good idea at the time_."  
  
"_A good idea? To sneak into Garden, frame his suicide, and then murder him in front of every other SeeD here?_" Nida's voice was clearly angry, and the voice that responded to him was equally so.  
  
"_It wasn't my idea. It was _his_ plan! And it would have worked, if your goddamn_ Commander _hadn't hit him in a weak spot_!"  
  
"_And this is somehow_ less _fair than your using flanged bullets and poison?_"  
  
"_Damn you to hell, Nida. Get me a scalpel and a pair of tweezers._" There were the faint sounds of someone moving, and then more speech. "_You might not believe this, but Nemo's meant a lot to the Roses. He couldn't ever join, but he was always there for us. That's why we tried to help him so much. It's not going to go over well that he got killed by a SeeD._"  
  
Nida's voice dripped so much sarcasm that ValHalla could imagine it pooling on the floor. "_Oh, yeah. And you know, if you managed to kill one of ours we would all rejoice and hand you a commendation._"  
  
There was the sound of something metallic being lifted. "_I lost a guy tonight,_" the woman's voice said. "_You might not. Who seems luckier?_"  
  
"_Not Squall, that's for sure,_" Nida growled. "_Or Nemo. But Nemo could have saved _his _sorry life just by not coming here. What were we supposed to do? We had no choice!_"  
  
"_That's the way with mercenaries, Nida. Our targets don't have choices. You're guilty of that as much as I am._"  
  
There was silence, giving ValHalla time to try and absorb the information. Something bad was happening on the first floor, she could tell that much, at least.  
  
"_Look, do you have any idea what's happening here? With the Festival, I mean?_" Nida's voice was suddenly very, very weary.  
  
"_It looked like Christmas when I came,_" the second voice said.  
  
"_Exactly. Christmas. Look what you've done--on Christmas, too. We might both be mercenaries, but I--and SeeD--would never stoop to doing something like this. It's in the SeeD code. No matter what we're ordered to do, we at least have respect. You..._ you _walked in and tried to kill him right in the middle of what should have been a time of joy._"  
  
"_Don't talk like that, Nida. I can tell when you're buelshitting your way through a conversation. You don't even know what Christmas is, anyway. You're just playing at it for the sake of a party._"  
  
"_We might not know, but what are we going to think now? Lialla, if you're going to hold us at fault for not really knowing what Christmas means, you had better think back on what you've shown us. You came in, stayed with us for who knows long--long enough to learn the Festival schedule, at least--then held an entire room captive as Nemo tried to kill Squall. Yeah, you guys celebrate the holiday. It that respect, I guess you'd know more about it than I would. But... if _this _is how you celebrate it, I can't say you have much of an edge_."  
  
ValHalla nodded. The name _Lialla_ rang a bell--after a moment, she recalled it from Nida's dossier. A member of a rival mercenary group, she recalled--the two had fought against each other in a misunderstanding in Timber that had ultimately resulted in their both being taken prisoner and having to work together to escape. When Lialla had planned to take Nida captive so that her mercenary group would be able to ransom him back to Garden, Nida had foiled her plan--unfortunately, the way in which he had foiled it had ended in the failure of both their missions. It had been a comedy of errors that embarrassed Garden in the eyes of the other mercenary companies, and resulted in major setbacks to the Timber Liberation Front.  
  
If Lialla's company had suffered similarly, it was no surprise that they would try to assassinate a top-ranking member of Garden's staff. There were still bits and pieces of the conversation that didn't make sense, but ValHalla was beginning to get an idea of what was going on two levels below her. Squall would have been in the ballroom--along with most of the rest of Garden. The mercenaries had come in, managing to hold the unarmed SeeDs at bay as someone had attacked Squall. How he had defended himself was unsure, but somehow he had survived and for whatever reason was now being treated in the Infirmary--by one of the people sent to kill him.  
  
From the sound of it, Nida and Lialla were alone in the infirmary--which meant that the rest of the mercenaries had to be somewhere on the ring, in the Quad, or outside. And there had to be more mercenaries--there was no way to hold an entire roomful of SeeDs, armed or not, at bay with merely one or two people. Thinking for a moment, ValHalla decided that the most logical course would be to withdraw from the Quad into the main ring, fortifying the entrance to the Quad in a way that they could pick off SeeDs coming down the natural bottleneck formed by the adjoining hallway.  
  
Meaning that Garden had--in effect--been taken hostage.  
  
There was more conversation audible over the intercom, but she ignored it. Moving to the massive computer in the corner of the room, she punched in her ID and passcode. A screen came up, and she navigated into the Paramagical Reserve link. Hitting the **WITHDRAW** option, she glanced at the menu it brought up.  
  
==GUARDIAN FORCES==  
=DISPLAY BY=  
**-ASSESSED LEVEL  
-ELEMENT  
-ATTACK TYPE******  
  
Selecting _attack type,_ she scrolled through the menu until she found a long-range multi-target Fire GF named _Lammasu_ that seemed as if it might have a fair compatability to her. Placing her hand on the paramagic padd next to the terminal, she felt the almost electric jolt as the GF junctioned itself to her. Turning, she pulled her trenchcoat off the wall and put it on on top of her SeeD dress jacket.  
  
_Time to do some negotiation with the leader,_ she thought, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button that would take her to the first floor.


	16. Dubious Peace

XVI  


  
It seemed like hours had passed, but Lialla was sure that not even one could have elapsed. Leaning against the wall of the infirmary office, she tried to dry her hands with the cloth she had found. She had been able to scrub in the back room, but she could swear that the stink of blood and poison still clung to her skin. She felt drained--both physically and emotionally. The fight and the argument with Nida had taken more out of her than she had realized.  
  
Glancing behind her, she noticed Nida was still working on something--probably casting the SeeD's broken leg. Glancing around, she slipped out the infirmary doors and into the hall, hoping to make a discreet exit.  
  
She knew something was wrong from the moment she stepped into the halls. Two of the Roses should have been waiting for her--instead, the halls seemed completely deserted. Hand moving to her sidearm, she glanced around the halls.  
  
"Janya!" she called softly, accompanying it with a piercing bird whistle. An answering whistle came from off to her left, and she jogged down to the entrance to the Quad where Janya and a pair of other girls were standing. "What's going on?" she demanded.  
  
"Nothing," Janya said. "A few SeeDs tried to get out once, but we fired a few warning shots and they retreated. Everyone is down the hall in the ballroom. I don't trust it at all--it's been pretty quiet."  
  
"Where are Chanse and the others?"  
  
Janya shrugged. "I haven't seen them. There were some strange noises earlier--sounded like someone came down off the elevator--but I had to guard this place, so I couldn't check. If they were attacked, I would assume that they withdrew to outside."  
  
Lialla glanced behind her. "_We're_ withdrawing," she said. "Come on."  
  
Janya nodded, and the four turned and jogged for the exit. Bursting out of the Garden and into the cool air, they slowed. Crusted snow crunched under their feet, but it was the only sound in the cold night. The sky was completely open--nothing shone in the darkness but the moon and the stars. Coupled with the expanse of unbroken snow spreading across the Balamb-Alcauld Plains, it should have been a sight of breathtaking beauty.  
  
"Lialla?" one of the girls asked softly. Lialla glanced at her.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"It's... about Nemo." The girl took a breath. "Are we just going to leave him there?"  
  
Lialla grimaced. "Once the soul is gone, the body is just an empty shell," she replied. "Let them burn it or bury it, I don't care which."  
  
"They'll be glad to hear that," said a voice, clear as a clarion in the still night. All four Roses turned, drawing their weapons to point them at the stranger approaching them from the side. Somehow, she had managed to escape their detection.  
  
Lialla was the first to speak. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.  
  
The woman crossed her arms, looking straight at Lialla. "I should be asking you that," she replied. "You're the ones on _my_ island."  
  
Lialla and the other three exchanged a glance.  
  
"My name is Denalek ValHalla," the stranger said. "I run this place. I hear you girls have been creating quite a stir."  
  
Lialla grimaced. "ValHalla," she said. "The infamous Guro _dupe_."  
  
"I've always known who I served," ValHalla countered. "Anyway, they wouldn't like you calling them that. They're called the Tribunal now--and you had better remember it, if you want to survive."  
  
"Since when did the Guro-Shumi control SeeD?" Lialla asked.  
  
"One of their own was the founding Garden Master," ValHalla explained. "Now that he's dead, they decided to adopt SeeD as their own. I would suggest not messing too much with us, but...."  
  
"Word travels fast, huh?" Lialla asked.  
  
"You have your friend Nida to thank for that," ValHalla responded. "He hit the call button on the intercom. I could hear almost everything you said."  
  
Lialla glowered. "Then you know your Commander is out of commission for a bit," she said.  
  
"Incidentally, that's what I came out here to talk to you about."  
  
Lialla nodded sharply. "I hope he dies," she snarled.  
  
"No doubt you do. But I'd like to tell you something. An appeal to your humanity... if you have any."  
  
"You're barking up the wrong tree," Lialla snapped. "Whatever it is, I already don't care."  
  
"I think you do." ValHalla glanced across the four Roses, making an disarming gesture. "You can put your guns away. Or don't you think you can take on one woman by the side of the road?"  
  
"Don't relax," Lialla said, still keeping her gun trained on ValHalla. "She forced everyone else to withdraw. She has some trick up her sleeve."  
  
ValHalla raised both hands. "I have nothing except a few words," she said.  
  
"Then spit them out."  
  
ValHalla nodded, digging her hands back into her pockets. "I'm not sure how to start this," she said, "but I guess I can start here: while you were talking with Nida, I remember the issue of timing came up. Nida wasn't very happy that you were doing this over Christmas. Frankly, I can see his point."  
  
"If this is going to be a lecture on ethics, you can shoot yourself," Lialla said. "We all know the stories of what you did for the Gu--the _Tribunal_--during the Sorceress Wars. If you were really that ruthless at our age, you don't have any right to speak."  
  
"I've faced judgment for what I did. I'm willing to at any time, in any court. What I want to say is that I hope you won't turn out like I did. ...consider it the sentiment of a guilt-ridden heart."  
  
Lialla sneered.  
  
"I'm going to tell you something," ValHalla said, continuing through Lialla's obvious distaste. "It's about Garden... or rather, it's about Garden's future. I'd like you to know that tonight or tomorrow--perhaps even as we speak--an inspector from the Tribunal is coming. His job is simple: to assess whether Garden is capable of running itself. If he finds it not to be so, we're either going to taken over or terminated. What do you think he'll say when he sees our Commander lying in the infirmary, almost dead? What do you think he'll say about tonight? It won't be pretty, I can say that. What do you think will happen? You'll have destroyed Garden."  
  
"So?" Lialla spat on the ground. "I hate Garden. I hate your reputation, your popularity, I hate your goddamn holier-than-thou stance on _everything_. What do I care if it falls?"  
  
ValHalla nodded. "I expected that answer from you. Which makes what I'm about to ask even harder."  
  
"Make it quick."  
  
ValHalla sighed. "We get so few people around Garden that are prime Commander material," she said. "Even so, the Commander has become a vital part of our operations here. What will the inspector say about the lack of a Commander--or, potentially even worse, a Commander we scratched up from the dregs of our student pool? I can't let Commander Leonhart's... incapacity hinder us, but there's quite simply no one else in Garden with the kind of... experience in the position that he's had."  
  
"Get to the damn point, _dupe_."  
  
"My point is that we need a secondary Commander for the Inspection, and you owe us big-time. I'd like you to fill the position. Hyne knows you're Commander enough."  
  
Lialla could only stare. Finally, she slowly shook her head. "You're mad," she said.  
  
"Am I?" ValHalla glanced at her quizzically. "That's what they used to tell me in the War. I don't think it was madness--just an unusual kind of sanity. I have my reasons for asking, and my reasons for assuming you'll comply."  
  
"I really doubt anything you say will change my mind."  
  
"Within everyone there exists at least one deep emotional well. I figure you have to have some kind of compassion in there somewhere."  
  
Lialla had almost said _Not anymore_ when she caught herself.  
  
"At least listen, so that I can feel I was given a fair hearing."  
  
"Make. It. Quick." Every word Lialla spit out was tinged with venom.  
  
ValHalla tucked one hand behind her back, gesturing vaguely with the other. "I heard you say in your conversation with Nida," she started, "that we were all mercenaries. Therefore, I think you must know what this means. You know how we have the best and the greatest scum of the earth, how we're a ragtag bunch but that we can stick together. I've only been here a matter of days, and I've already seen that attitude in these SeeDs. You'll also know that we can't be ordered around for just anything--we might hire ourselves out, but there's an independence that goes with that. We're not part of a standard army... we're not grunts, we're individuals, and we know that. That's why we're mercenaries. Do you understand?"  
  
Lialla nodded. "Yeah," she said roughly. "I understand."  
  
"Then you can understand what it would do to these people to be shut down," ValHalla said. "What can they do? Mercenary work is a disreputable profession. We might find jobs with other companies, but most--like you--hate us. We might find normal jobs, but we'd always be the ex-mercs. Always and unconditionally the black sheep. Most likely, we'd be pressed into standard armies. Can you imagine that? It's the worst fate a merc can dream up. There are hundreds of people in that building--" ValHalla gestured to the Garden, "--and they're all hanging on a favorable review from the inspector. The Guro don't care--they don't understand. They're too far removed. We're nothing but a profitable venture to them. But you... I can't see you willingly sentencing all those people to that kind of a hell."  
  
Lialla lowered her gun. "I can see your point," she said, "but I'm not convinced. You talk a lot, but I still can't see why--apart from my poor bleeding heart--I should help you."  
  
ValHalla sighed a deep sigh. "What else is there to say?" she asked. "...except for the obvious?"  
  
"Obvious?" Lialla asked.  
  
"The obvious." ValHalla tilted her head backwards, staring up into the sky. "That it's Christmas Eve, and that this should be a time of giving, of sharing joy and hope. That we've all had enough sorrow and misery and fighting and despair to last us our whole lives, but that we know we'll always have to back into the rough old world. That this time should be a release from all that, and that we should not _now_ have to fear an uncertain tomorrow. Thousands of years ago, when the first Christmas came into being, it was said that all humanity took a tacit vow. On this pair of days, for once in the year there would be peace. No hatred, no fear. Only peace, and happiness, and joy."  
  
For a moment, ValHalla stared up into the starry expanse. Finally, she looked down at Lialla again.  
  
"Humanity's composed of fools. I was one of them. The presidents and dictators of every nation have been them. Men and women and elders and even children have been them. Peace? Peace means nothing. It's a platitude. ...at least, that's what I used to think. Until one year... I spent the last year of the Sorceress War in Esthar, and I met up with some of the most remarkable people. I had the fortune to spend Christmas with them, and they tried to make me understand. I didn't then, but... now? I realize that I've remembered their lesson time and time again through my life.  
"Now? Maybe it's just a coincidence. But it's Christmas, and here I am, talking to you all. ...Desert Rose, right?"  
  
Lialla nodded stiffly.  
  
"I thought so. Because, see, the people I spent that Christmas with were Desert Roses. This was long before you came into the profession, of course, but... it is a striking coincidence, don't you agree? I never thought that I would be giving out a speech like the one they used on me, trying to sway others as they tried to reform me. But life plays the most spectacular games, sometimes."  
  
There was silence for a long time. Slowly, ValHalla took a step forward.  
  
"So?" she asked. "Will you help me? ...if not for some sense of compassion, then for the spirit of Christmas at least?"  
  
More silence. The silence was intense.  
  
A hare bounded across the hard snow, leaving no trail behind him. The light from the stars glinted off Garden, glinted off the snow, glinted off ValHalla's eyes and buttons. The wind above them sang softly, never deigning to come below and chill them. In those moments, there was utter....  
  
..._peace_.  
  
Lialla sheathed her gun. ValHalla looked at her expectantly, and Lialla could see hope in her eyes.  
  
"I'll help," she said.


	17. Christmas

XVII  


  
_First came sound. Faint noises--conversation. Yes, definitely conversation. They were talking about--  
  
--that wasn't important. What was important was that they were _talking._ And that he could_ hear _them_.  
  
_Feeling came next; dull, throbbing pains. Along with the feeling there was smell: the astringent smell of some disinfectant, along with the clean smell of fresh sheets. Every smell seemed amplified, in contrast to the muffled voices and the distant pain.  
  
Lost in the revelation that he was--once again--alive when there was no logical reason that he should have been, he was content for several long minutes simply to revel in the sensations, unpleasant as they might be. It wasn't for several minutes that he thought of opening his eyes...._  
  
  
  
_...light!_  
  
Light hurt. He raised a hand to his forehead almost reflexively, and the movement alerted the person sitting on the stool nearby that he was conscious. There was the rustle of paper as they put something off to one side, then a hand landed on his shoulder.  
  
"You recovered faster than we thought you would," ValHalla said. Squall moved his head, trying to make the figures in front of him focus into one person. After a moment, it worked.  
  
He tried to sit up, and ValHalla grabbed his arm to help him. Once he was more-or-less vertical, he moved his hand back to his forehead.  
  
"It's Christmas evening," ValHalla informed him. "You've only been out for about a day. Really, you should be glad that you woke up at all--although you have Nida and Lialla to thank for _that_."  
  
Squall shook his head. "The Inspector?" he asked urgently.  
  
"A fine young Shumi named GANU. He's been and gone. You don't need to worry--we found someone who could roleplay your part decently enough. As far as anyone can tell, Garden is in no danger."  
  
Squall absorbed that for a moment. "And Nemo?" he asked, not sure he wanted to hear whatever ValHalla had to say.  
  
The Headmaster looked grim, stepping back to lean against the wall. "Ah," she said. "Nemo is quite deceased--we buried him earlier today in the Balamb Mountain Range. And on that note...." ValHalla took a breath. "I feel I need to apologize to you in regards to some of the assumptions I made in relation to this whole... fiasco."  
  
"That's not necessary," Squall responded softly. He really didn't want to be put into a situation more awkward as any of the ones he had already been put into.  
  
"I think it is," ValHalla said. "I haven't been here for long, and as a result I... made some conclusions which I can now see as erroneous. From the beginning of my tenure in this position, I seem to have made misassumption after misassumption. I would like you to know that I feel the deepest regret for all of them."  
  
Squall shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I don't hold you at fault."  
  
ValHalla smiled dryly. "You're too kind," she said. "And I mean that literally. I don't know how I'll ever learn to get along with you, Commander. Especially if you continue to be so forgiving."  
  
A surge of annoyance passed through Squall. "What do you want?" he asked sullenly. "I can't hold grudges forever."  
  
"I see," ValHalla said. "Not even against those who hurt you?"  
  
Squall made an indefinite noise.  
  
"What do you think of Nemo?" ValHalla queried.  
  
Squall was silent for a moment. "He took the actions which he thought were right," he said. "It was regrettable that I was forced to kill him."  
  
ValHalla shook her head. "I don't know how you can think that way," she said. "In my entire life, I've never been in a position where that kind of attitude was possible." Sighing, she folded her arms across her chest. "I suppose that if I'm expected to live and work here, I had better begin to change my ways. And what a day to reform--don't you agree?"  
  
Squall looked away.  
  
ValHalla moved out of the room for a moment, coming back in with a pair of crutches. "You have a pretty nasty fracture in your leg," she said, "and it wasn't helped at all by dragging you to the infirmary. We have it immobilized, but it's going to take a while before you can put any weight on it. Take these."  
  
Squall took the crutches as ValHalla handed them to him, shifting himself out of the bed and onto their support. As he stood he could feel the bandages wrapped around the majority of his chest tighten, and he took a moment to steady himself and breathe. Turning, he looked at ValHalla. "I'd like to get back to work," he informed her.  
  
ValHalla shook her head. "Amazing," she said. "You can have an incredibly one-track mind at times. Do you have any memory at all of the events of the last week or so? I would have to imagine you're due for a vacation."  
  
Squall frowned. "I don't feel I need one," he said.  
  
"Humor me." ValHalla moved out of the room, motioning Squall to follow her. "If you were to return to work, I'd feel that I would need to as well. And this is still Christmas--Garden needs a day off, and so do you. Remember, they were there in that ballroom too. Garden needs to relax--get over yesterday's events. And as Commander of Garden, you need to set an example."  
  
Stepping out into the halls, ValHalla glanced around. "Ms. Tilmett is disappointed," she said. "As you can understand, the Festival didn't go as well as it should have. It's kind of hard to keep people cheery when their leader's just been shot and they're holed up in a ballroom with gunmen waiting outside. When Nida announced that you would recover fairly quickly we managed to organize the rest of the Festival, but it was somewhat lackluster. The celebration has continued, but...." ValHalla gave Squall a small smile. "It will be good for Garden to see that you can put what happened behind you so easily. If _you_ can, especially since you were the victim, then logic would follow that they could."  
  
Squall didn't quite know how to respond, so he merely nodded.  
  
Someone called his name from further down the hall, and Squall looked up to see Selphie racing toward him. This time, he stood his ground as she slowed to a stop in front of him.  
  
"You're all right!" she crowed. "I'm so glad! We were all worried--"  
  
"Selphie," ValHalla broke in. Selphie made a visible effort to control her emotions.  
  
"I'm glad that you're better," she said. "Are you going to come back to the Festival? We really want you to be there...."  
  
Squall looked at ValHalla, who nodded. "I'll leave you to your own devices," she said. Almost as an afterthought, she gave a SeeD salute and said "Thank you." Then she walked off, leaving Squall to wonder what she had meant.  
  
"Come on!" Selphie said. "You haven't been to _any_ of the festivities yet--"  
  
Squall sighed, guessing that--after ValHalla's example--he should probably give some apology for acting as he had during the past days. "...I'm sorry, Selphie," he started uncertainly. "I haven't bothered to get presents or read up on the holiday or anything. I guess I haven't been much help...."  
  
"What?" Selphie blinked at him, then shook her head. "No, that wasn't what I meant _at all!"_ Taking a step forward, she extended her hands in what was almost a beseeching gesture. "Squall, you don't have to worry about whether or not you helped! We just want you to enjoy yourself. And if you're worried about presents, then... then don't be! Everyone knows that you give more to Garden than anyone else. We don't need you to get gifts for people. Anyway, Christmas isn't about the gifts! It's about the spirit... the spirit of joy, and of hope, and of love...."  
  
Tears were beginning to form in Selphie's eyes, but she was smiling at the same time. Squall glanced away, uncomfortable, and the next thing he knew Selphie, in all her boundless enthusiasm, had thrown her arms around him.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Squall," she said softly. Squall stiffened, but felt himself almost involuntarily relax. For reasons beyond his immediate comprehension, he almost began to smile.  
  
"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.  
  


_Fin_


End file.
